MadisonAdelia - Hello Poetry

It calls to me under my skin the fire in my veins the echoes I let in I can't sleep but that's fine I don't need sleep to survive I only need fire fire and ice like calls to like and the fear in your eyes I struggle to contain it one more comment from you I let it all loose fire burns like acid ice as cold as my words your face becomes red you stumble you mumble and my rage is cooled again.

0

Sep 9, 2025

Sep 9, 2025 at 5:05 PM UTC

fire and ice

It calls to me under my skin the fire in my veins the echoes I let in I can't sleep but that's fine I don't need sleep to survive I only need fire fire and ice like calls to like and the fear in your eyes I struggle to contain it one more comment from you I let it all loose fire burns like acid ice as cold as my words your face becomes red you stumble you mumble and my rage is cooled again.

21

the life the love Why can't it be enough? they try to rule make us cry they are cruel and don't know why. i'll tell you why it's because you try you try too much yet it's never enough. so you make yourself feel better. my making me feel deader.

0

Sep 9, 2025

Sep 9, 2025 at 4:59 PM UTC

enough

the life the love Why can't it be enough? they try to rule make us cry they are cruel and don't know why. i'll tell you why it's because you try you try too much yet it's never enough. so you make yourself feel better. my making me feel deader.

14

jagged slashes of color a red there an orange here sometimes yellow even if it's not mellow the painting speaks in cries and weeps across the white canvas. the colors speak in our tongue they tease beckoning a lone soul closer closer to be free they wail they scream like a lone identity they reflect all I can't say what I wish I may pounding their fists just for a glimpse of what I really wish I could paint.

0

Sep 8, 2025

Sep 8, 2025 at 3:03 PM UTC

the painting.

jagged slashes of color a red there an orange here sometimes yellow even if it's not mellow the painting speaks in cries and weeps across the white canvas. the colors speak in our tongue they tease beckoning a lone soul closer closer to be free they wail they scream like a lone identity they reflect all I can't say what I wish I may pounding their fists just for a glimpse of what I really wish I could paint.

23