Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Grace 6d
I've been craving the carved part of me that you carry, dear friend
joy and sorrow are mixed (according to Kahlil Gibran) and he is right
Grace Mar 15
all I want is to dance, in the deep of the night
in a room full of people. we only have short years until
it's wrong to go out and dance. let me dance
with my friends, it's the middle of the
night; I can people watch. Looking back
on last night, we were like a school of fish
with shimmery emerald bodies.
Grace Mar 14
I wait to be led by the starlight,
finding one dimmer than the others but too steady to ignore
Grace Mar 11
The mirror's dark other half looks back at me in the dark of the morning

the whole street's asleep still, moonlight wavering and waxing to its peak

the lake is still frozen beyond the harbour, two islands joined by an ice corridor

the sound of the guitar a part of the darkness, a piece of the morning, a song before the birds wake.
  Mar 7 Grace
Marc Morais
A stag lifts its head,
moonlight drapes across its back—
the woods watched over.
Haiku Wilderness 4/5
Grace Mar 2
You're the wayward star, blinking patterns in the sky,
burning lifetimes away;
you love god, kiss losers, hold close to the dying;

throwing yourself off the cliff of your potential as the lunatic who hies to the tall cliff and leaps into burning oblivion,

anchored now to a man who speaks at you and never could see you,
only feel your youth and covet your mind.

-

Jane! What wretched choices you were maybe forced to measure, for the shortcomings of your era.

Be the voice in the woods, the single song for the morning.
with reference to Charlotte Smith's "On being cautioned against walking on an headland overlooking the sea, because it was frequented by a lunatic."
Grace Mar 1
One person like steam on the horizon in a winter morning as the sun rises

stuck in the awe of them, the way of them, the transientness of knowing how soon the day will move on,

be over but that feeling lingers
Next page