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Doe_spiritPoems
Who would I be without you My self-abating goddess Quiet sobs in the kitchen Over undercooked stew. Because to me you are perfect You are spring, autumn, Shade in the summer heat, Winters protection. But where were you? Away in your mind on those sepia days, Thoughts at the bar with him, Lonely in the house alone. Popped pills in the crowded basement, Crowded with your grandmothers ghosts, Locked in ritual self effacement, A facade of all the things you held close.
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May 27
May 27, 2026 at 3:20 PM UTC
The Mother
Who would I be without you My self-abating goddess Quiet sobs in the kitchen Over undercooked stew. Because to me you are perfect You are spring, autumn, Shade in the summer heat, Winters protection. But where were you? Away in your mind on those sepia days, Thoughts at the bar with him, Lonely in the house alone. Popped pills in the crowded basement, Crowded with your grandmothers ghosts, Locked in ritual self effacement, A facade of all the things you held close.
Doe_spirit
Written by
Doe_spirit
37/F/Berlin, Germany
May 27
May 27, 2026 at 3:20 PM UTC
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