Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
And it was all at once I knew that she never loved me.
It wasn't because of spite and it wasn't because she never tried,
It just was
She thought she did,
But love is elusive and it's easy to love someone in parts,
And in parts she loved me well,
Until I fell to pieces
And then it came,
The I can't do this, the I's in her eyes
And I knew she didn't know,
I wanted to be angry,
Because I loved her with all of me
But she only loved me with pieces.
And maybe one day she'll know
I truly hope so,
But for now I'll remember the pieces.
Today, the sun exploded.
With a fiery gasp, it let its last,
The sun exploded.
And in a picturesque moment for a micro second, nobody knew.
People left for work, and were angry about the wrong kind of milk in their latte's because nobody knew that the sun exploded.
For a brief time things were okay
Because nobody knew this was the last day
Before the sun exploded.
  Apr 2016 Amber Bowen
Syaff S
I’m on my way home.
Sky's a mix of grey and blue -
still thinking of you.
A haiku you will never understand even if you found it.
  Mar 2016 Amber Bowen
Little Bear
it's always going to be my fault

No matter what you did or what you said
it will be my fault

Even the lies you tell
will be my fault

The love you gave and the love you lost
will be my fault

The pain you feel and the tears you shed
will be my fault

The agony and the injustice of it all
will be my fault

And the punches I took and the bitter words you spat
will be my fault

The obsessive
you poured upon me
will be my fault

The others you slept with and threw in my face
will be my fault

The secret child you made
will be my fault

and so I left you

that will not be my fault

that would be yours.
  Mar 2016 Amber Bowen
Damian Murphy
Books are like flowers
Their words pollen seeds,
Carried far and wide
By all those who read.
With other words merge
To new life ignite
In the fertile minds
Of all those who write.
There tended, nourished
For hour after hour.
Encouraged to grow,
To once more flower.
  Mar 2016 Amber Bowen
the dead bird
the favorite stuffed animal
from a now-grown child
in a pile of mud
soaked through with rain
after one of the dogs got ahold of it
and forgot
to bring it back inside

the baby bird makes a running
and tries to lift her wings
to surprise her mother
with the gift of flight
before she comes home with dinner
total failure
lying fifteen feet
from her nest
with a broken wing
and a voice thats too small
her mother will never
the baby bird will decompose
and become one
with the earth

the blank journal
which was purchased
over a year ago
collecting dust
under piles of
never-to-be-used school supplies
hopes of confessions
or doodles
or even notes
are lost
as it has been forgotten
no one even
that it exists at all

is exactly the same
as it's always been
  Mar 2016 Amber Bowen
tasting you takes me back
to times when I was younger
not for the worse
but for the better
and your smile shows me the future
light at the end of the tunnel
getting brighter
coming closer
Next page