Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Zoetrope Mar 2020
Do you ******* miss me
Do you miss ******* me?
Zoetrope Feb 2020
The evening is bathed in red
wine. Her touch complimented
by a hearty meal.  

Under an avalanche of years
lie dazed memories
perfectly frozen.

I walk between mountains,
their stone-faces
giving me the cold shoulder.

I have come to love
these walls. Though beautiful
I am still entrapped.

The stars. I know the stars.
Orion blandly glitters
without your presence.

I once read
that indifference was the least I had to dread.
But if you my dear  

Played out my fear
And treated me without hate
or love. I think I’d stay

Between those which
Zoetrope Nov 2019
I’m a hunter.
My eyes locked on
Gentle contact, a coy smile.
Unoblivious of your desired stares.
The manufactured
moments you believe are real.
That look and I know you’re
Part of me
believes you’re the
That I’ll finally fall,
head first over heels.
Then we kiss and it’s gone.
Then it gets hotter and I resent you.
I’m a hunter.
An apex predator.
Your hatred wounds me but I’ll take your heart as my reward.
My bleeding trophy.
I wish
it wasn’t like this.
I wish
I could consume
all of you
Or none of you.  
But love is oh so bitter
And the chase is oh so sweet.
#love #heartbreak
Zoetrope Nov 2019
I cut
the purple thread.
The one you wrapped around my wrist.
All that while ago.
And now I’ve untied myself there are
No more strings attached.
Zoetrope Sep 2019
How long will I lie
awake? Mouth shut. Eyes open.
When was I left here?
Zoetrope Sep 2019
I broke
a mirror, when we first met.
Our guilty reflections
as we stared into the shards.

Barely a decade old,
but in my eyes you’d never be a perfect ten.
Back then you were
A pigtail pulling, cootie carrying boy,
A pigtail pulling, cootie carrying friend.

Two years passed then we were
split apart. Like crevices
reflective pieces. Another five and I saw
In a mirror now fixed. Your reflection
the same, different.

Seven years. Spent growing up
apart. Yet growing closer.
when you grab me, my hair. I scream
for the right reasons .
And holding hands isn’t just for
arm wrestling.

Shards of bad luck are swept up
into a metaphorical dustbin.
Zoetrope Apr 2019
A bullet whistles past
a polish jew.
He escapes
his hostile habitat
and disguises his name.

A woman faints at the gore
of her future career.
As she falls,
a handsome figure catches her eye
along with her body.

So close
yet almost so far.
Strange how so many
near misses
lead to entire existences.
Next page