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  Jul 21 lisagrace
Dorothea Daisy
I am not scared of death.
In fact, I find her attractive.
I like the thrill of being close to her.

I want her to hold me close.
I want her to be mine.
I want to be hers.

But my family wouldn’t approve of her.
And I love my family more,
Than I could ever love her.

So I keep my distance.
She’ll be mine someday,
She’ll be mine no matter what I say.
  Jul 21 lisagrace
Lynn Stillman
As the time ticks by,
I can't promise but I'll try,
to blue up your sky.
  Jul 21 lisagrace
Yuiza Nabin
simple things are all it takes
to tie my heart in knots of devotion
for i'm a simple girl
with simple wants:

to feel loved
no
to feel loveable
He couldn’t even finish a bowl of sorbet—he said it was “too sweet” for him.

Little did he know—he was too sweet for the cruel world he was born into.
I have a friend who just radiates so much positivity and I wonder what the world would be like if everyone was like this.
lisagrace Jul 21
You're nothing
but a ***** flea to me -
Biting my ankles,
And gnawing at my feet
You refuse my pleas to cease
They itch -
Oh so uncomfortably
I scratch until they bleed

The bites are gone now,
But my skin -
Uneven, blotched in tone -
Bear scars of memories
Long since past
And so I cover them fast
Lest I dwell on the contrast

They make my tattoos
Look a little ugly sometimes
Maybe I'll just cover them
With more art -
Turn something stark
Into something lark

How about all bite,
AND all bark?
A pest that left, but not before leaving its mark.
Flea bites fade, sure—but some things itch long after they’re gone.
At least I can cover them with something prettier than him. đŸ©žđŸœ 🐜 🐜
lisagrace Jul 21
I promise you,
Doom and gloom
Isn't all my poetry brings
I just have so much to say -
So let me sing!
I know they're long,
Mayhaps laborious
I like to use big words
Like noctilucence
But give them a read,
If you please
I'm no tease
My poems -
You just need to
Let them breathe
.....
🍒          
Pretty please?
lisagrace Jul 20
She stands, it calls her
From the cold and damp, stale air
These walls - a cage now
Orange flowers a scatter
Past the plethora
To the quiet green, she moves
Shadowed sussurus
Of leaves, root and soil afoot
They whisper. She stops,
And settles into the grass
Her eyes, blinking slow
Cool gusts move
through her fingers

Softly, she exhales
She didn't know she'd withheld
That breath -
Now a tear
A poem about escaping what’s heavy and letting the earth hold some of it for you.
Sometimes healing starts with a whisper through the trees—and a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.
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