elle-doughertyWhisper

American
Sort
Poor Young ThingPoor young thing. / Dirty carpet, dirty face, dirty feelings in this place. / Poor young thing can't help but cry,
9
Jan 8, 2012
"Being Alone Together," He SaidIn the deep hollows of an abandoned mineshaft, / poised under the giant reaching claws of ancient / machinery,
19
Jan 8, 2012
LessonsAfter so many nights pressed against the solid square of you, I felt geometry everywhere. The clock, that devil circle, cut out piece by piece, the triangles laid out in the way of us. Under my feet, red brick swayed back and forth in broken rectangles, bringing me closer with each step. And there were spheres - the suns you sent me from up north, the bulbs of unripe blossoms. Each day is a line. The length of them varies but the thickness does not. Each morning I wake up to trudge through the same murk. Take me to the ribbon and I will cut it and break through, landing on the flat of my back on your hardwood floor and never moving from that divine plane again.
9
Jan 8, 2012
AustriaThe crack and crash of tree limbs / signaled nothing to me yet - / I did not see him, fearsome head of Death,
16
Jan 8, 2012
the history of a still small thinga small thing, aged 6, has small knees / braced in terror against the wall and one small hand / gripping the towel rack above its small head
36
Nov 16, 2010
crept beneath midnighti know that i am how i am because of my eyes / and what they are saying. / dark, they are, stretched and translucent --
32
Feb 12, 2010
down/towntoday, i saw / a million things that used to be. / i saw the pavement breathing hard in the mist of
46
Feb 5, 2010
on the park benchwe collided under the wet-paper smell of the moon, threaded through the black grass. / there were no stars to see us, wild and crying; / i was cold for the first time in my life that night.
34
Feb 5, 2010
27 OctThis morning was not a morning. An evening, perhaps. / Noon on a long, dark day. / From the top of the tallest building I watched the sun rise,
10
Feb 5, 2010
28 OctThis morning I stretched out, glamorous and lazy, planning to be purposefully late. Dismissive and smiling. What real life? / I took my time, browsing through my thoughts and movements carefully and deliberately. Washed my hair in the sink for the fun and dirt of it. I still didn’t feel quite tired enough. I spoke with clarity and wit, despite the crusts caked over the leftover sparkles in my eyes.
7
Feb 5, 2010
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write