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Anne Scintilla Jun 2020
...
now, i can only grasp
how it resonates.
thunderous in chambers
seeping into crevices
to which light cracks.
when all is too late. lightning is not something to be frightened of. try not to wince and look away, it is beautiful.

a.s.
Anne Scintilla Feb 2020
a feather, even
if anger was a boulder
i rather shoulder.
sometimes there are things we cannot forgive,
and that's okay.

a.s.
Anne Scintilla Dec 2019
is navigated by a steady ghost.
oh no. where do i go?
Anne Scintilla Dec 2019
! ! !

Crocodile Crying
In Neon Lights: A beacon
of slippery slopes

! ! !
it’s almost the end of a decade.
here’s for the people who claim headlines for the wrong reasons.

thanks for reading.
a.s.
Anne Scintilla Nov 2019
apple of the eye,
red lip with a poisoned kiss,
peonies for the dead.
not all fairytales have happy endings.

a.s.
Anne Scintilla Nov 2019
i am no object
shattered, unlike paperweight
i’m meant to cut deep.
maybe it doesn’t work because it wasn’t meant to be used that way.
you have the right key but the wrong door.

a.s.
Anne Scintilla Nov 2019
was a sticky mess dripping slowly
down the broken walls of
what we called home, and i

the ever so buzy bee who hover
to stare from a distance remain
as my gut twists of hunger

for the continued days
of work: measuring the rooms
that would strategically contain

our— my, remaining efforts
in keeping this symbiosis a force
enough to drive through

the blistering storms and past
what you thought was the drought.
but this, is the fallout

where the flowers cease to bloom
and the sun grows weary
to shine on leftovers

of what we called was home
as honey drips ever so slowly
into a painful mess to clean.
releasing all my poems that i kept so dearly for a year. hoping this one reminds you that all relationships are a two way street.

a.s.
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