First Draft

The Outsider
I grew up on pews and polished smiles, knew every hymn before my name. A pastor’s kid — raised on altars, raised to be the flame.
By Hannah Lambert30 days ago in Poets
Discernment
I’m thankful for the whisper that rises in my bones, the warning in the spirit before a truth is shown. I see beneath the sugar—
By Hannah Lambert30 days ago in Poets
Cardboard Soul
Finally exhausted of arbitrary demands, the ultimatum came to the table, slouching, like Yeats’s beast on the way to Bethlehem,
By Harper Lewis30 days ago in Poets
Quiet Heat
The Way I Begin to Burn I don’t react. I register. The moment you enter my space, something beneath my calm leans forward—
By M.maxabout a month ago in Poets
Incarcerated Brothers, Maybe Broooothers, Like Brothers Brothers
I'm GAY! Not the funny type of gay! The real, gay, the gay gay shit! Well, it started when my father wasn't able to tell me he loved me! Then my mother left me on a door-step of another neighbor! Real TOUGH shit! I got like 10 baby momma's! Some horse radish ice-cream, but truth be told, I kind of needed some pillow talk time! I needed "SEX"! Not a person, who could "PROVIDE" sex... Nah, just sex. I needed "MONEY"! Not a person, who could "PROVIDE" money... Nah, just money. So this is the last time I'm telling you...
By 365poetry - "Holy Trinity":::: I Know The Cross, It's The Spirit Of Kharôn Latin Spelling (Charon) Translation "Fierce Brightness"about a month ago in Poets
If
I travel still and find a way as choiceful branches turn My path for now confined within the shell of your gray bark A newborn trail from root to fruit with every lesson learned.
By A. S. Lawrenceabout a month ago in Poets
the spark extinguishing. Content Warning.
vibrant and saturated the colors of a true heart never fade gradients arrange and repeat the values lay broken a square of earth down ten feet
By ⸘jason alan‽about a month ago in Poets
The Alabaster Box
They whispered when I entered, their glances sharp as knives— a woman with a history unwelcome in their eyes. But shame had grown too heavy,
By Hannah Lambertabout a month ago in Poets
Villanelle Recovery
Will I recover from these villanelles? It’s too soon to know; Only time will tell. It’s like being trapped in a prison cell—
By Harper Lewisabout a month ago in Poets
The Last Flame
The fire burns in those last moments... That last breath as you pass the torch from flesh to spirit That flame burns when you have to say goodbye
By Connor Mudieabout a month ago in Poets
Lost Pages
Sometimes I tear a page out so fast it rips twice. The trash bin beside the desk is full of half-confessions and almost-truths, curled in on themselves like dried leaves. I tell myself they’re gone, but my chest remembers every line I didn’t let live.
By Richard Patrick Gageabout a month ago in Poets
Pants on Fire
I tell my worst lies when I don’t say anything at all, the things I’ve left unsaid out of kindness out of consideration
By Harper Lewisabout a month ago in Poets