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Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
me, me, me
when i read back my poetry it screams “me, me, me” on my screen in bold letters and i can’t shut it up — most days, i cannot make any other words out; i want to throttle a thousand versions of the me gone by, i want to throw myself from a figurative balcony, i want to sink a sword into every pen i’ve held
By angela hepwortha day ago in Poets
No Word Comes Near Enough. Content Warning.
The English language has its limits. I learned this when I became a student of the Bible and looked up the Greek and Hebrew definitions behind the Scriptures I loved. Some languages have so much more depth and power than the one I use to convey my thoughts. But, even so, I don't think any word could ever come close to describing this void and pain I am journeying through. I don't know how to swim through its murky waters.
By Shirley Belk3 days ago in Poets
