ash13y
Whisper
21 / F / American
Poems
81
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36
Words
7.6k
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crush
black as night
/
chiseled stone
/
spirits ramble
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orphans roam
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lover's eyes
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masquerade
/
9 to 5
1m
16.8k
To the one person who can't listen--
Dearest,
/
This thing is claiming me again. I write only to express a great need to see you, or call
7m
2.3k
tired
sleep is nothing more
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than pressing pause on netflix;
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our minds are put on hold,
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our worries f
3m
1.8k
the worst kind of Sad
the worst kind of Sad is not when Sad tries not to be Sad.
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it is when Sad hides in your closet, /
3m
1.6k
eclipse
so close yet so far
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minuscule in my mind until
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suddenly
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there.
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looming over me and
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oversha
1m
1.6k
the clique
if religion is
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the goal of every human being
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then i am the loner,
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the outsider.
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if religion
3m
1.5k
nasty
"it's nasty," she says,
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the words dripping
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dancing acidic ballerinas
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tumbling from her lips /
2m
1.4k
Dead Poets Society
We are all part of the Dead Poets Society,
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in that we are all adeptly capable
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of free thought an
1m
1.3k
americana
this is americana.
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this is the sound of family get-togethers,
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or the lack thereof.
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the sound o
4m
1.3k
hypocrite
i am not okay.
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i am there when my friends need me,
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listening,
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giving out advice like it's chri
6m
1.2k
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