Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
the-sagest-assuagerPoems
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ⌘                            well, sure,                            ⌘ she is a poet, alright, but quite a peculiar one. the quill on her escritoire has worn brittle. and it's inkwell is mostly dry, but not from good use. i believe it was knocked over by her spooked, yet shamefully neglectful cat one stormy afternoon. it was monday, i'm quite sure. to elaborate a little further, the cat's name is 'monday.' honestly, i am not that good at remembering days; though, i do believe—yes, it was, in fact, a monday. ⌘                                                                          ⌘ regardless of monday's impromptu housecapades, the inkwell sat dry and unused; yet, she still authors such rich, beautiful poetry. she'll never use fancy words and rarely ever speaks, but i do know that i am her muse. she'll never confess that much, but i am positive they’re for me. i feel her scrawl her loyal verse upon my fragile, calloused heart; they have made change within me. i'm her living poetry and i love her—i need her— she is Quill and i'm ⌘                          her Paper.                          ⌘
0
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
My Bohemian Lover
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ⌘                            well, sure,                            ⌘ she is a poet, alright, but quite a peculiar one. the quill on her escritoire has worn brittle. and it's inkwell is mostly dry, but not from good use. i believe it was knocked over by her spooked, yet shamefully neglectful cat one stormy afternoon. it was monday, i'm quite sure. to elaborate a little further, the cat's name is 'monday.' honestly, i am not that good at remembering days; though, i do believe—yes, it was, in fact, a monday. ⌘                                                                          ⌘ regardless of monday's impromptu housecapades, the inkwell sat dry and unused; yet, she still authors such rich, beautiful poetry. she'll never use fancy words and rarely ever speaks, but i do know that i am her muse. she'll never confess that much, but i am positive they’re for me. i feel her scrawl her loyal verse upon my fragile, calloused heart; they have made change within me. i'm her living poetry and i love her—i need her— she is Quill and i'm ⌘                          her Paper.                          ⌘
﹊ To: my love— my dearest darling, Sarah-mine ❦ Ɛ> ~mushes~ <3 ﹊ ∘ ⊱‧⌍  ⌈✞⌋  ⌌‧⊰ ∞ ﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋
#love#happiness#relationship#thoughts#change#forgiveness#perfect#purpose#destiny#match
the-sagest-assuager
Written by
the-sagest-assuager
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem