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Mar 2020 · 238
Molly Mar 2020
A love-lit bolt has run us through --
now less can never suffice.
So we wander in vain
through mist, through rain
for chance that it might strike twice.
Does anyone remember when this site had that little lightning bolt that would turn yellow when you had new notifications? I miss that thing.
Mar 2020 · 178
In the Event of Disaster
Molly Mar 2020
Uncertainty wears combat boots
for what might lie ahead,
dressed to **** the coming thrill
and opt for something sure instead.

Ready to face the feasible,
the imaginable fall,
uncertainty wears combat boots
while elation wears nothing at all.
Mar 2020 · 335
Molly Mar 2020
An existence quantified
in lowered eyes and
upside down pirouettes,
sighing with the stars
and dreaming of the hours
when gravity was forgiving
and the universe was
firmly right-side up.
Feb 2020 · 268
Molly Feb 2020
Thunder falls silent, and none too soon,
before an empty throne --
a once-great beast
ere final feast
now sovereign of vapor and bone.
For the conquerors. Chin up -- this too shall pass.
Feb 2020 · 181
Molly Feb 2020
The earth packs tight between the treads
as needles break beneath,
while arches wander
ever fonder
of the rush their steps bequeath.
To a friend who's got a soft spot for rhyme schemes and morning hikes.
Oct 2019 · 258
Molly Oct 2019
We remember what it sounds like --
euphoria hot off the wire,
a whisper down a twisted spine,
a barrage of internal cannon fire.
An epidermal power surge,
a taste of commotion worth living for.
We remember what it sounds like --
we just don't hear it anymore.
Ever wish you could erase a song from your brain so you could hear it again for the first time?
Oct 2019 · 480
Molly Oct 2019
Remind me to look at you
when my Mary Janes have been worn through
and your Levi's don't fit quite like they used to.
When time and proximity have distorted our view
and our irises are a little less hued
and it seems we've exhausted every angle
of an eternity built for two,
remind me to look at you
like I did when your Levi's were new.
Oct 2019 · 392
Scenic Route
Molly Oct 2019
Some aspire to
breeze-bent meadowgrass
and cattail lullabies,
but are destined for
gravel under tires
and snow on the
All things considered,
I don't mind the cold.
Not every plan works out.
Thank goodness :)
Sep 2019 · 598
Molly Sep 2019
Stratus melts into the dunes
like they've never been apart --
a sugarcoated monochrome,
a love awash in early morning haze.
Sep 2019 · 213
Cold Snap
Molly Sep 2019
All systems froze
on the final inhale,
and frost filled in the gaps,
seeping, noiseless,
through the cracks
of a body now coursing
with the frigid inertia
of another November
come and gone,
leaving behind little more
than a spire of
crumbling birch bark
and a trail of frozen sap.
Randomly generated words:
system, inhale, crack, course, sap
Sep 2019 · 782
Search Party
Molly Sep 2019
Dying embers send the last
of their flares up into the black
while we sit alongside and pray
that rescue never comes.
Sep 2019 · 244
Molly Sep 2019
Linger long enough
and I'll join you under
the sagging porch roof,
beneath a night that
whispers sleepily
to fill the hours before
daylight wanders in
for the morning shift.
I'll rock myself to sleep
in the old bentwood,
and you'll drift off, too,
before Orion has a chance
to say hello
or goodnight,
but he won't hold it against you.
And I'll be gone when you wake up,
but linger long enough
and I may just come back again
to sit for a spell
beneath the universe,
on top of the world,
in the old bentwood.
Not entirely sure who or what "I" is. I guess I'll leave that up to you.
Sep 2019 · 435
Bird's-Eye View
Molly Sep 2019
The sky is falling
head over heels
for a world that doesn't
bother looking up.
Meant for this to be longer, but I'm not sure it really needs to be...
Sep 2019 · 1.2k
Molly Sep 2019
Weary winds seek solace
in the arms of conifer giants,
having not yet discovered that
even mountain pines shiver
when winter is at its darkest.
An illusion of perfection.
Sep 2019 · 1.1k
Molly Sep 2019
We lusted after opulence
and immortality
while the ravens hungered
for September to douse their dwellings
in amber and burnt sienna.
Sep 2019 · 426
Red Herring
Molly Sep 2019
I searched for starlight beneath the waves
while sand and sky wore matching shades of indigo
and remnants of reflected galaxies
drifted across the surface in plain view,
making their way lazily
to the shore where I once stood.
Don't you hate it when you miss something that's right in front of you?
Aug 2019 · 349
Molly Aug 2019
February's gaze wanders ahead to
the last week of April, engraved with the
scent of lavender soap and sun-dried earth.
But, as always, these faded days
can only take him so far.
Maybe next spring.
Jul 2019 · 606
Molly Jul 2019
Ursa Major yawns,
knowing winter will
grant her no rest
nor hibernation,
for sleep does not come easy
beneath the weight of
the cosmos.
Jul 2019 · 336
Molly Jul 2019
The hills speak fondly of us,
of morning hazes and astral downpours,
keeping their voices low as they
trace our names in the earth, sheltered
in the shadow of the tallest peak.
May 2019 · 234
Molly May 2019
Storms pass overhead
as midnight lumbers out from
its hiding place among the stars
to get its feet wet
and enjoy the rain.
May 2019 · 709
Molly May 2019
August leans in close,
its dew-stained breath no match
for the fawns who are still young enough
to leap through knee-high blades,
unencumbered by the warmth.
Perhaps we are still young enough
to join them before the wildflowers doze.
May 2019 · 12.8k
Molly May 2019
It strikes, not with a gale,
but with a drizzle of cherry blossoms
and a flurry of gentle chords.
May 2019 · 1.4k
Clair de Lune
Molly May 2019
The galaxy dances above the ether,
and the moon smiles at the melody,
knowing all the while
that it was written
just for her.

— The End —