lizie

lizie 1h

there’s a guilt i can’t explain,
an ache without a name,
like i’m sorry for something
i never became.

7h

Abbott J Hardison

We now have
An army of
Poets with single
Sentences and I
Only need 290
More poets' sentences.

This is going great guys! Thank you for all of your support.
If you would like to participate, write up a line for the poem and email it to me at hardisonabbott@gmail.com. Make sure to include your name or pen name in the email that way I can credit you. I will arrange the lines in a way that makes sense to read.
You may upload more than one line, though I cannot ensure you I will be able to use all of what you submit, I will always use at least one of your submissions.
Please repost and/or share this with anyone you think would enjoy participating in this. I'd appreciate the help spreading the word.
Thanks everybody! :)

#300 #poets #poem

lizie 1d

jury of one

of all the people i’ve learned to disappoint,
none have been as cruel as me.
a jury of one, gavel in hand,
i recite my faults like scripture.

i live in a house i’ve built of mirrors—
every reflection a version i loathe.
the walls don’t crack,
but i do,
trying to escape the frame.

even my shadow turns its back.

ideas for a title?

lizie 1d

funeral

there’s a quiet kind of grief
in wanting to scream but choosing silence,
in driving nowhere just to feel the road
pull you back into your body.

some days, my reflection feels like a stranger,
a ghost of who i thought i’d become.
other days, i’m just tired—
of waiting for apologies
that won’t come,
of remembering things that didn’t end right,
of waking up hoping
it might feel different.

there’s a heaviness in holding on
to people who’ve already let you go,
a hollowness in pretending
you don’t feel the gap
where they used to be.
but even in the absence,
you play their songs like prayers—
a melody to make the pain
feel like it belongs to someone else.

lizie 1d

the point

i don’t think i understand the point of love.
it always leaves me hurt—
empty, sad, hollow.
yet, i still keep falling,
as if the crash
will one day
feel like flying.

1d

Abbott J Hardison

300 Poet Poem

So, this isn't really a poem,
More of just a post.
I'm looking for 300 poets,
New or old,
To write a line.
For a 300 poet poem.
I have one so far,
I'm in need of 299 more.

I don't know if people read my edits to these, but I just wanted to you you all know, you're in such harmony with fellow poets, you're rhyming. :)
Also, feel free to submit more than one line!
I think it'd be a cool thing to try out. Let me know if you guys are interested.
If you would like to participate, write up a line for the poem and email it to me at hardisonabbott@gmail.com. Make sure to include your name or pen name in the email that way I can credit you. I will arrange the lines in a way that makes sense to read.
Thanks guys.
Name of the poem is pending if you guys have ideas let me know, please forward this to anyone who you'd think would be interested, I want to make this a real thing.

#scrapbook #poems