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 433° 
kurvalmedia
Her.

Her voice is angelic
Her eyes are like the stars
Her presence is like that of Gods
She heals my scars

Yet herself has been hurt taken for granted
And treated the worst
She's a blessing feeling like a curse
I adore her,
She sets my soul on fire like lighters to the wood.
She doesn't know it yet but she's changed my life for the good.

She's my religion, my belief and
all that I breath.
She's my want, my desire and all that I need.
She's my motivation, my determination and all that I dream.

She. Is. Everything.

Her voice is angelic
Her eyes are like the stars
Her presence is like that of Gods
She heals my scars

Running from her past
Her hands held out she holds my heart
Her home built in my mind
Not looking behind
Not worried about the future
As long as we stay together.
 265° 
Rəhman JA
You can't understand me
If you're not fall in love.
You're actually not free
If you're fall in love.

Dreaming every dream every night
Want to hug her till end of my life.
She's my air,she's my light
I can end this pain with sharp knife.

I just want to comb her hairs
I just want to look her eyes
I just want to see her face
Every night
And with every morning light.

Why she refused all my love?
Why she broke my heart like dove?
Where the divine justice?
Who will answer for this?
Only the ones can understand who tasted the holy poison of Love.
 250° 
Yeydy De La Cruz
I held you in my arms and swore to show you how to live.
Give you attention, love, and discipline.
We were going to have the father-son talk.
So, I can explain how the world really works.

Let me show you its beauty and faults.
Here let me show you about manhood.
Always remember, that there is nothing thicker than blood.
You don’t choose your family; it chooses you.
Honor them and protect them at all cost.

Being a man is about showing respect, dignity, and self-control.
You must resist the urge to eat the marshmallow.
I will be here for you, so you can learn to live
independent, free, and always standing upright.

Never bow your head to indignity and cruelty.
Never let injustice corrupt your ideals.
Get an education and learn how to think.
Don’t ever let others sway your beliefs.

Learn to compromise when working with others,
but never fall victim to the pressure of the majority.
So, let's talk now about politics and unjust laws
because you are brown and you are starting at a loss.

I sit now under this sun thinking of you.
Wishing we did have that father-son talk.
Wishing that I had a voice of wisdom in my life
explaining the importance of the little things in life.

But no matter now, you are gone.
I am standing upright but alone.
I am finding out about the world on my own.
I spoke a eulogy to family and friends.
I spoke about the things you should have said.
The father-son relationship or lack thereof is influential in the way young man relate to the world.
 204° 
Cole Cummings
Red
Red light...
One more broken promise
One more temptation sated

Red light...
The way she leans toward me,
Like a wave crashing into the sand

Red Light...
Just.. one more? Please don't,
Don't turn green yet.

Red Light...
I could have sworn we said this wouldn't happen, but I'm so glad it did.

Red, her lips turned into a smirk,
Her eyes looking into mine

Red, the anticipation, the clashing of our tongues, the blood, coursing through my excited veins

Red, the hair in my hands, my hands, wandering

Red, the flush of my cheeks as I sin in the sweetest of ways

Red, the rush as her lips curl around my ear, her breath warm and inviting

Red, the blood as she bit my lip, causing noises to cone out of me I haven't heard in some time

Red, my face as my hand was guided, my body far more willing than my mind.

That night I drove 90 all the way home in an attempt to recreate how alive I felt in that moment.

So kiss me again under the full moon, and beautifully destroy me.
So tonight was interesting.
 180° 
Debanjana Saha
em>The more I am into
Reading, writing or creating art
The more I am learning about the meaningful asset of oneself.
The more I am becoming
closer to oneself.
The more I am losing others
like the sand slipping from hand.
Everything seems so away
And I am there only to comfort oneself
The need is now how to be better
To serve others and to love oneself.
Deeper meaning of life struck me hard. Nothing matters, no love, no hatred. Everything is so much beyond and temporary. Everything seems so meaningful but again at the end of the day, everything is so meaningless.
 160° 
clara
How soft a kiss that you gifted to me
in the hotel elevator on the second floor.
How tender a hand on the small of my back
as we waltz through the halls together.

You sound like April showers when you talk -
soft rainfall on my sun-warmed sidewalks.
I am the smell after the rain, proof of your falling.
I gather you in cupped hands, savoring each drop.

I am all blush - skin flushing red under your lips,
and goosebumps follow where you drag your fingertips.
Every touch is poetry - you write it between my thighs.
I beg you not to stop, not to leave - don’t go, don’t go.

Don't go, lover - don't let me fall asleep lonely.
Don't forget how I kissed your temple so gently -
so thankful to have felt your skin on mine -
that I lulled you right to sleep that night.

Lover, I am a poet at the worst of times.
My words find me days later, still pining for you.
You moved in me like April showers, soft rainfall.
I bloom for you like tulip flowers.
Re-post because it didn't feel finished! And I really wanted to "finish" it, if ya know what I mean xD
 158° 
J Peters
I turn my key in the rusty lock, but this place doesn’t feel like home. Winters are always freezing, and seem longer than they are. Stagnant. My lips are chapped and your face looks pale in the watery light, but at least we are both still breathing. Every exhale hovering in the air like a ghost. We’re always saying to ourselves that things will get better, happier, we are also always reminding ourselves that we can throw in the towel, should we need to. But really, what good does that do? We can dig holes and lie in them, but what good does that do? I say I should get some rest and the air is cold in my lungs, frozen like the tips of my fingers, and the solid earth, nails in the ground. I force the door open and it’s still the same. I’m always surprised when time keeps moving forward.
 146° 
Deovrat
rose petals..
colorful butterfly...
lemon grass..
rainbow in sky...
+++++
mystical music..
of flowing streams...
growing shrubs..
fruits and  trees...

+++++
fragrance of wet soil..
blooming flowers...
humming birds..
bite of honey bees...

+++++
clump of old age trees..
uproar of wild animals...
ebullience of untamed waterfall..
erosion of river strands...

+++++
blushing of squirrel ..
whistling of cold breeze...
dew on lotus leaf ..
rosiness of sunrise...

+++++
snow bound peaks..
tweeting birds...
always makes me realize..
that I am alive...


+++++
deovrat - 21.02.2018 (c)
 146° 
Eric the Red
The truth about poets
Is
They’re not all alike
Some are derelicts
Scalawags
Lovers
Sisters
Some say they’re writers
Instead of Poet
For they know what that puts
Into the minds of others
Romantic
Lethargic
Gypsy
Some will never write novels
Poems are their Ulysses
Their ‘Love in the Time Of Cholera
Some are sad
Withdrawn
Choose to live there
While some poets
Use their words
To claw their way out
Some have fallen out of love
&
Want someone
ANYONE
to listen
While some have fallen in
the deepest ocean
&
Want to tell the world
What this man
This woman
Means to them

Most write their verses
Alone
Some at midnight
Some at sunrise
Some with coffee
Most with bottles

Most will never see the reaction
Of many
Will never hear
‘I like that...’

And most don’t want to be famous
Or sometimes heard
We
Just want to be
Ourselves
 141° 
Michael
Im not a poet.
I'm not able to spin my words into a beautiful symphony, I can't warp the truth into a mesmerising metaphor.
I'm not a poet, I've just lost the fire that once lit up the world.
I'm not a poet sometimes I don't even know if I'm human anymore.
My world is shrouded in darkness.
My world is broken my world is lonely.

I tell you not as a poet but as a broken man that love is all that matters. Without it you crumble and fade.
 132° 
starry
You said
I said

I want to make it

Could we stop faking this

I was staring off into the sunset

Whispering into the clouds

I walked around
Until darkness fell

I found my friends
The brightest constellations

The soft grass
Against my back

A soft melody track

I'm alone

So alone

Just with myself

                                                  I will find you
                                                    In pink skies
                                                       Bitter Lies

I almost forgot the
Dangerous weather
Thunder crashing
Against the window

                     Would you believe me if I said I've changed?

Maybe I'm not so empty
 104° 
idk
I stopped writing.
Not because I fell out of love with it...
My emotions just seemed to disappear.

I started a new medication.
The doctor said it would help my panic disorder, and it did.
I took that pill, like my mother talks to God (every morning).

When I went back to the doctor she said we had to up the dosage because apparently having 2 panic attacks a week still isn't okay.
I told her that when I woke up this morning I got out of bed without crying, but she didn't consider that as much of a victory as I did.

When I was put on a higher dosage, my emotions shut down.
After a few weeks I stopped crying, my OCD got better, my panic attacks were gone, and I could even go into the student union of my college campus without my heart trying to win a race against my thoughts.

I could breathe.

But, I also stopped having fun.
I felt like a stranger in my own body.
My emotions found the exit on the plane and jumped, never to be found again.

Since when did being able to breathe require me to feel like this?
 99° 
danielle
she’s one of those eyes
who can see one’s true beauty
she’s one of those smiles
who can make your day fine

she believed in me
she built my own confidence
she introduced me to the best of me
she gave me faith as she danced

she said, have courage
she called me darling
i finally got out of that cage
because of her, i am here — flying

i proved that she’s the true beauty
for she sees the goodness of others
she have a bounden duty
it is to bring change in your life when you meet her
You must
endeavor
to love
forever
because
love is
a forever
endeavor.
 78° 
CAM
God. How am I still not okay?

God. It's been so long.

God. I'm so tired of life right now.

God. What happened to me?

I was such a nice kid.
I was calm all the time.
Mature for my age,
Little but so lively.

I was so helpful.
So loyal.
I always supported my trust.
But I never really spoke my mind.

I was shy.
I was small.
I never stood up for my feelings
I never stood up for myself.

And now I'm older.
I realize I don't need support.
I need myself.
I need confidence.

Speaking your mind is not wrong.
Standing up for your feelings isn't rude.
Standing up for yourself isn't mean.
Saying what you feel doesn't make you imperfect.

No one's perfect. Not even them.
The ones you hate for being so amazing.
Maybe she has anxiety.
Maybe his mom is alcoholic.

No one has a perfect life.
There's not one perfect family in the world.
There is not a person in the world who's perfect.
There's not a person who doesn't have one bit of strife.

But just because you aren't perfect.
Doesn't make you less worth it.
You're amazing.
You're still charming, kind, and strong.

You're just more experienced.
You just understand some more things now.

And maybe, just maybe,
You just aren't as shy anymore.
I'm not perfect. But I'm not shy anymore either.
 71° 
Tony Lee Ross Jr
Do I want love?
How can I chase  what I don't see?
How can I give what I've never received?
I want someone who will keep me warm at night, someone who won’t delete my picture when they need distance. I want someone who won't lie to their friends about me, saying I'm not their type when they were calling me last night. Addicted to attention was your intention, playing with my mind, wasting my time, I say I won't fall for you again, but I do. How can I chase what I don't see? How can I love someone who doesn't love me?
 64° 
Katie Parsons
Smile
Speak quietly
Conjugate words
Kiss

Smile
Show teeth
Stick out your tongue
Salivate

Smile
Scream loudly
Hold breath
Swallow

Smile
Taste flavor
Pleasure him
Masticate

Smile
Speak eloquently
Say ahh
Repeat
 60° 
Autumn Whipple
I look(ed) in
the clouds
and search(ed) for dragons.

they dance(ed)
and love(ed)
and sang above me.

I laugh(ed) and cry(ied)
all night, and in day
I look(ed) for dragons.

Up, up up
up in the clouds I look(ed)
to where they say(id)
I can find my dragons.

but now I'm old(er0
and sad(der)
and i'm afraid

as I look(ed) up
that I've lost my dragons.
losing youth childhood and some of the wonder
 58° 
yúyīn
I stopped checking for monsters under the bed, when I realized they were inside all of us instead
 56° 
Mims
When we're in the car
After we had an argument
And I know he's stressed
When he doesn't understand why our sister is on medication
Or why somedays I don't get out of bed
Or why we're back in court
Or why our parents are divorced
Or why my mother cries
Or why sometimes I have to parent him
Take care of him


Sometimes
On quiet nights
I hold my brothers hand
Because when I was young
I would've done anything
For anyone to tell me anything was okay
That I wasn't going crazy
That sometimes people just hurt
Sometimes I hold my brothers hand
Because when I was young
I would've done anything

For someone to hold mine
Because I know how it feels

He will not go through what I went through
He will not be raised like me
 53° 
Vale Luna
(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.
Forward: from the victims perspective.
Backward: from the murderers perspective.

This TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE
 52° 
alexa
you will never be forgotten.
ever.
your name twisted into metaphors and colors and distractions will forever
be painted across pages and pages of her favorite brand of notebook,
no matter how many she burns
there will always be one she forgot,
and she will only find it once she had almost forgotten you.
she will find the one Papyrus notebook
and all of your metaphors and colors and disractions will come flooding back,
just like how the ocean in your eyes
flooded her heart all those years ago.
 49° 
yúyīn
JJsbdksndkkdmxmjshJustletmediemmmkbhbxjdnxnbdjxbdnxnnxnxnImsotire­dofthisnsjs nkksbdndnbdthese tears wontstopjdjdnn znjsnndudndkdknfkdmssnfnjdndnndbdbdbdnWhythepainstilllivesin myheartjjxnxjxjdn mykdjdvjsndjcjndndncnxkxnkxndkdkjdnskxhjshdjddndeImsofuckingtired­msnndksnxonshxidnkxndjsjdbjdkslmsndjjdbdisbdjjdksndjdhbsndnndjdjd­ndnd


Youllneverunderstand me
 44° 
bumbleberries
unspoken words,
years of silence

it is time
to spread my wings

to embrace;

i am transgender
 44° 
Adrian
My words and kisses
are not to make you mine.

My rhymes and promises
are to make you smile.
 44° 
Ash
She loved art,
more so when she’s using red
Bright- filled with joie de vivre.
Dark- deep and sophisticated.
Soon her colour pencils will get blunt,
if not already broken
She reaches over to her drawer
full of sharpeners,
all either bladeless or with rusty metals
She takes a brand new one out of its packaging
and admired its beauty,
Its lustrous metal gleam
She unscrews it and began drawing red
on her pale, see-through canvas
The metal cold on her blue veins
unlike the warm red, now in a crimson shade.
 42° 
frosted
I want to ask how you're doing
so, so badly
my head hurts
and my eyes won't shut
I've never seen your strong shoulders
in such a slump
Never seen you look so broken-
Shattered, I want to crawl into a ball
Or hold you forever
and
I want to ask how you're doing
so badly
but I can't
So I won't
So I don't
you posted a coming out video today.
you've left your boyfriend and you're accepting who you are.
I'm happy for you.
I just wish you had found someone else, somewhere else, something else to test the waters on.
After years of hoping, you gave me the chance
to hold you and touch you
and I felt like I could dance all night.
But suddenly, you flipped a switch
and asked
me
not
to
tell
your
boyfriend.
I'm sorry we haven't spoken since then. Maybe I wasn't enough for you. I know for sure that I'm not enough now.
I'm sorry that I can't tell you this in person.
I've come to a realization. I can be angry. I can be hurt. I can be proud. I can be supportive. But I'm afraid that I must be all of these things in silence. I can't be directly involved anymore.
I don't owe you anything
and
you don't owe me.
Consider us even.
 39° 
Ava
they say if you
could go back in time
to meet a young
Hitler
would you shoot him
right away
or let history
just sit there

would you try to
tell him what might be
if he becomes a
monstrosity

would you maybe wait
until you knew
if he could
really destroy
you too

would you kill
him with no qualms
saying it was evil
blood on
your palms

or would you,
like me, have
a change of heart
and try to teach
that little Hitler
art?
 39° 
ConcretePoet
starved
for
attention
thanks
to
social media
most are.

i'm ;

'at
the
gym'.

(who really cares?)

or ;

'i'm in
a warm
weather
state on
vacation'.

(letting every criminal know your house is empty)

or;

'i'm
out for
my
birthday
having
drinks
at
the
local
watering hole'

(reminding you all to wish me happy birthday)

putting
as your
status ;

'omg',
'a sad face',
or my favorite,
'worst day ever' !

(those are the needy posts that i whip on by)

or;

'i miss
my
mom
dad,
insert
loved one'.

(guess what you? we all miss somebody)

i guess
those
'status's'
are better
than
announcing
that ...

'i am
starved
and
needy
for
attention'.


'concrete-poet'
2/18《■》
 36° 
al
you are my sunshine
you brighten my day
take the coldness away  

you are my sunshine
wherever you are i can feel you
you make grow and stand tall

you are my sunshine
through all the worn tissue
i know it’s clearly you

you are my sunshine
and only that
my everything
 32° 
zahra wang
when people are in love
they often say
they simply fell
tripped over their own two feet
face forward
and into the arms of their beloved

i did more than simply fall
onto the ground of your love

you, for me
were an ocean
and i dived
headfirst
roughly
harshly
almost painfully
into the waters of “you”

i knew i could not swim
but i did so anyway
i was drowning
entangled in you
surrounded by this being of “you”
engulfed in this feeling of “you”

and i did not know what came over me
but i let myself drown
i did not try to swim back up
because if i went back to land,
releasing myself from your grasp
that would mean losing the feeling of “you”

and after
submerging into the depth
the love
the passion
of “you”

how could i ever leave?
 32° 
Tallie
what if we were flowers
floating in the wind
nothing special, no superpowers
we'd be up in the air where we twisted and spinned
what if we were trees
our branches stretch far and wide
we could live deep in the jungle where no one ever sees
a place where only the sky cried
what if we were leaves
constantly changing our skin
getting stepped on by thieves
laid upon the path on which we begin
 32° 
Kartikeya Jain
"She was an
unusual dresser.
Every night,
she wore bruises
on her heart,
love on her lips,
pain in her eyes,
and ink on her fingers.
They called her poetry."
His fight was not against the horn
The forlorn sights were fenced by scorn
Finito’s might was just as bold
As told by those whose pity sold
The bull saw red as did the crowd
For now, its head lowered-plowed
A proud escape brought louder cheers
Though sheered his cape, he had no fear
He cleared the charge of raging bull
Fooled, enlarged, by danger’s pull
Finito aims to miss by slight
Not flight, remiss a witnessed plight
Taurador’s pride is what’s for show;
To know his crowd and make his blows
So grows Finito’s need to kill
Fulfill their greed for fighter’s skill
And this is how a blow endured
Secured Finito’s place in lore
For it was not as all had seen
Obscene was not a man gored clean
Finito’s fatal wound begot
Not by horn but by prideful wrought
Brought by a kick, bled internal
Finito fought the beast’s infernal
The bull slain first, had died with grace
In place thereafter the slayer braced
Disgraced, he knew of what’s to come
Finito’s life was almost done
As his story survives his deeds
It sounds a bell which tolls for thee
The story of Finito was told by the wife of Pablo, named Pilar.
 31° 
softcomponent
Far too often the past few years I've felt as if I were C3PO dragging my robot-feet through the parched, endless dunes of the Tatooine deserts in the opening salvos to A New Hope.

"Oh R2, it seems be our lot in life to suffer."

The past 2 years, though it would be impossible to say each and every contiguous moment was terrible, has, in the aggregate evaluation of retrospect, been the worst 2 of my life so far. Two good friends have lapsed into the realm of death as a result of drug overdoses, I've slogged through episodic epilepsy which has precipitated a full return of my anxiety and major depressive disorder, seen the end of the longest relationship I've ever been in after 3 and a half years following which my ex-girlfriend (probably legally a civil-union 'spouse' by the point of departure) immediately leap-frogged into the newly committed arms of someone I thought to be a best friend less than 2 weeks after our termination as a couple, my compression-of-self to manically pursue academic ends, some of which would never reach fruition regardless of my best efforts, Donald Trump's election to the highest office of political authority in the United States and all that is contingent on this terribly seminal event, my manifest inability to accept that I am perhaps affected heavier by the loss of these two said friends than I often actively feel myself to be within any given moment, aaannnd.... where has it all lead?

This is perhaps the $64,000 question. I feel it is most certainly the reason I write today.

I have been, on many levels, classically defeated by forces of life known to human experience since the beginning of time. I am emotionally, intellectually, and physiologically exhausted.
I desire nothing more than the ability to take a period of hiatus, to retreat and regroup for a few months, let all bleed to paper, a catharsis permitted as energy levels allow. But I'm afraid because I don't have the money to support such a retreat despite my knowing exactly what I need. Rent will still rear its ugly head to guillotine my unprepared neck and truly substantiate a hard, physical contrast between the 'body' and 'mind.' This being said, it is only the dissonant forces of economy which maintain this illusion as a practical necessity.

If economy can't let go of me so I can let my soul soar to express, I often begin to contemplate yet again the only third option between a rock and a hard place: that of suicide, the ultimate and final release. The 'greatest' final "Great Escape."

Just let me go, or I'll do it for me.

Please, convention. Give me the space I need. Because I know, I know, I know I need it.
Written early November 2017.
 30° 
NeroameeAlucard
I'm single.
And it has obvious benefits
I don't have to share my food, and i won't be yelled at for occasionally being emotionally
Oblivious.
But I'm a mess too, a disaster that no one wants a part of, but i guess that's why I'm apart from most everyone.

I'm single
Because it takes courage to love, courage that i don't have anymore because I've cried too much like a purple dove.
Everyday i see random couples out there in the streets under the spell of love
And being crippled by the hooks of loneliness i look up above and wonder what sin did i commit?
Can i change this sentence with a legal team and a habeus corpus writ?

I'm single
And cynical, growing more everyday.
I can't even appreciate a love song anymore, i know i sound crazed.
But you'd feel the same if everyday
You die just a bit more inside with each affectionate display.

I'm single
Because i can't offer anything but myself
No wealth, mediocre at best looks, and at best average health.
I'm a wreck no one wants to fix... so I'll do it without help.
Man, this is sad.
I'm a collection of solitudes
A silence derived from
the summation of all languages
 29° 
Jurtin Albine
I keep going…

Even though my meaning is misconstrued.

I truly believe that we are even.

A living life that’s unfulfilled.

I wait patiently for someone who
will come and be with me.

It’s not that rejection is my enemy...

It’s that my enemy is me.

I know you’ve heard it before
in a way that’s more familiar,
but what can I say
when I feel so similar.

Where is she?

The same place as me…

Tucked away out of the others
eye sight,
or already passed,
but too nervously afraid to say;

‘It’s not okay.’

‘I’m not you;
you're not me.’

The world turned without a pair.

It was us who interjected purpose,
it was us who tried to find reason,
it was us who wrote the meaning,
and it was us who gave in too easily.

A passerby,
or one in too many…

Could it be so frequent
that it was unnecessary to care?

Or so few that I lost it before
I even knew it was there…

I don’t know what to say about that...

‘Love lost people,
As war seeks lives.’

There I’ve done it.

I’ve crushed a rose
and lifted a bitter note
above an atmosphere
made up of a little more than sound,
but a little less than a passion from
something that somewhat comprehends…

I’m human and I don’t understand...

The sun shines violently,
I light where it’s been,
and together we wander.

We know not of,
Just yet,
Where each other roam…

And before it’s all over
I only hope we find one another’s
hidden home,

as we float towards
the final resting earth
within the icy stone’s storm,

traversing chaos’
insignificant unknown...

alone.
 29° 
FreeMind
At 5 years old
She liked a boy
That told her she was "pretty".
They sat hand in hand
And played pretend
That they were "Oh so ready!"
She told her friends
So they all giggled without an end.

At 10 years old
She liked a boy
That told her she was "gross".
"Too much hair! Look at that fat!
I'd rather like a monkey instead!"
Tears rolled down,
Self esteem has broke.
She told no one,
Because she already knew
What she was...

At 15 years old
She liked a boy
That told her she was "beautiful".
So strong and tall,
She gave no thought
But loved him always more.
"He is no good for you"
"Find someone better"
She let these words fly past.
They stood hand in hand
Against the world
They always stood together.

But something changed...

No longer interested in her
"I can not wait no more!"
He robbed her of her flower once,
And then once more.
Regret and tears,
Nothing more.
She held it all inside too long.
She asked for help.
In need of aid.
But got nothing more
Than blue, purple, and red
All over her.

At 17 years old
She liked no one.
She went nowhere.
She did nothing.
She wanted forgiveness.
She wanted life to simply end.
No words to speak.
Only thoughts filled her now.
The "Why?" and "What?" and "How?"
They almost killed her.
She cried all night.
She sat all day
With nothing else getting in her way.
All alone,
No longer her,
Thinking of the best way,
To finally give in
And say,

Goodbye...
#19
 28° 
Lacey Clark
"There are two types of people in the world," he laughed after a heavy swig. I laughed and anticipated a mindless reply.
"Those who are pens, and those who are pencils".
An eye-roll dismissed the statement but a curious brow stayed in place.
"All I'm saying is that some folks have a certainty about them. Everything glides off their tongue like cursive dipped in black ink".
I thought of where I might fall on the spectrum.
Imaginary conversations series...
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