Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Emilie Jan 28
He was flooded with memories and thoughts he didn't know he could possibly miss,
carefully combing through the tangles on her long, thick hair.
The impossible way she could mispronounce the word Winnebago time and time again.
Her knack for adding butter to anything she made,
and her ability to see what so many overlooked: that the time we had was an opportunity to etch out something permanent in a world that would soon turn over completely,
like a lake at the end of a storm.
The old caving into the new in a stead fast cycle that could never break.
He was struggling, desperately trying to figure out how to hold onto them.
He would remember the odd thing and the last would inch away from him
like clouds on a windy day blowing and dispersing into eventuality.
  Dec 2019 Emilie
Anastasia Wickizer
yellow is the color of my love's hair
blue is the color of the sky
we'll grow wings
and past the stars fly
dropping bombs
of peace and prosperity
all of us panickers
will for once see in clarity
we'll stay up for the sunset
and wake up for the sunrise
we'll act like its a
fabby bday suprise
we'll overtake the world
and change it to one that's good
there won't be any violence
life will drop it's shadowy hood
love will be our governor
and hope will be the president
I can't wait to be
that country's resident.
Emilie Dec 2019
her hands fall onto him
as darkness smothers them
existential, then inward
what am i doing here?

sirens lull to a hum
water drips from the table
picturesque, nature's splendor
save the foliage
he fumbles with her hair
he's had one too many

she can't placate the night
despite the times she's tried
she tries to place a face
in the cracks in the paint

existential, then inward
what am i doing here?
  Dec 2019 Emilie
Oskar Erikson
the name I’m calling in the night
is the ghost of yours.
an apparition
wraith-like, transparent
against my lips.
whispered in the witching hour
alone in the dark,
to summon something
or you.
Emilie Sep 2019
I just sent four texts,
All of them contained the words 'im sorry'
All of them sat for too long
Unread on my end
It's my craven disregard
For the feelings people have
the way that I can run and never hold my ground

It hadn't rained in so long
and there on the quiet street corner
we felt drops,
You swapped places with me, pushed me under the awning
Stood in the rain

That small act of drunken selflessness marred my judgement
Made me abandon the duty I had to someone I loved
That small
Pushed me into thinking you meant it

And I pulled back into you

And it worse to think, would I be biting my nails if we hadn't been seen?

Maybe you just like the rain,
And I gave in on a bet to life
lost the best in vain
Emilie Jun 2019
Wild mint and windchimes
Stretched from the poles meet halfway
I could tell God I tried, but what would he say
I could tell God I'm tired, but what would they say
Clear the mint with your scythe, with the weeds in the way
Let wild things grow
Let wild things pray

The hounds that are loosed in the fields by the bay
Clash with the morning our God gave away
Let wild things go
Let wild things prey
Next page