Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Emily Nov 2022
the sea became separate from the sky.
casting a golden glaze upon a million shades of soft blue.
the burning flame grew ferociously,
fanning it’s yellow fibres
between the round, fluffy clouds.
one breath,
comes and goes unconsciously,
as does the translucent ocean,
lapping upon the sparkling sand.
Emily Nov 2022
the night the moon fell from the sky.
weeping stars scattering their gold dust below
and covering the streets with a deafening silence.

we look to the mourning sky,
and ask why,
they were chosen so soon.

one less plate at the dinner table,
two fewer shoes stationed at the front door.
three last
“i love you’s”
“I’ll be home soon”
“see you in five.”

grief eventually fades,
they say.
while we wait for the “eventually”

we’ll look for you in the rainbows
search for you in the stars
find you stashed away in our back pockets
like a lucky penny
we hold on to forever.

together we’ll see this through
we will remember you.
Emily Sep 2022
if only we could recycle love,
like we recycle plastic bags.
glass bottles,
poured empty of cheap *****.
consumed on nights
where the pain seeps through the invisible wall.
filling the cracks with words of regret,
and stories better left untold.

love can not be recycled,
it is a one time use only.
moulded into unique shapes,
to fit different puzzles,
and run through different blood streams.

you see,
love can not be infinite,
no matter how much we wish it so.
we are only human,
humans who tire easily
and quickly lose hope.

since love can not be recycled,
don’t give a handful of stars,
to someone who won’t even let you in their galaxy.
Emily Aug 2022
there are some things
words can simply not describe
certain feelings that when spoken
sound like a foreign language
tucked away in the ridges of our gums
and clinging desperately to the back of our teeth

there are some feelings
buried deep within our stomachs
like the butterflies we find on first dates
sealed away in first kisses and whispered words

yet these butterflies are more sinister
battering themselves against our ribcages
“i need to be free”
“let me fly”

when they finally spread their wings
and are released from their cage
the sky is silent

because there are some things
words can simply not describe

like the feeling of being completely alone
in a room full of butterflies
Emily Jan 2022
a love lost,
is a love found.

a love for art
a love for earth
a love for literature
a love for life
a love for me

a love lost,
is a love found.

so thanks,
for allowing me
to find love
in myself.
Emily Jan 2022
not everything can be black and white.
some things were made to be viewed in full colour,
blinded by pretty pinks,
and engulfed by a sea of shades.

it may be easier to view the world with eyes shut tight.
ignore the things you despise,
and refuse to read between the lines.

but imagine how much beauty,
how much colour,
how much life.

Emily Jan 2022
and that's how you left me.

in rain water,
and heartache.
surrounded by a pool
of emptiness.
the cold was unbearable
i couldn't bare to move.
knowing once I did
it would be
the end,

of everything.
Next page