Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tatiana Dec 2020
I'll take a walk that I won't return from
leaving behind coats and mittens
in hopes I'll become frostbitten
and numb
©Tatiana

This isn't really a planned series as much as it's a need to empty my drafts which I have over 200 of.
On this warm spring day,
The light peers in my window,
Quiet as it can,
Asking questions of shadows:
"Do these walls have ears?
And what does the clock-face see?
Is the lamp lonely,
And does the pillow know tears?"
The shadows answer,
In their sweetest honeyed voice,
"We gave the walls ears,
And the clock has our blank face.
The lamp loves the dark,
Just as the pillow drinks tears.
Won't you come deeper,
Deeper into our shadows,
And hear what we know?"
Will the light claim its homeland,
Burning up the dark
And swallowing the night whole,
Or will it shrink back,
Afraid to see the hard truth
That my shadows breathe
And the darkness grows deeper
Fated to hold the sleeper?
From May 2017
Tired and weary,
Torn and worn;
Wrung with wights,
Thick with thorns.
Written Sept 2014
Amber K Sep 2020
Every time I here sirens,
I think of you.
I think of the lights I saw.
The reds and the blues.
I had no idea it was you.
And to this day,
I still flinch at the thought,
that it could be someone else I care about.
Shared from my drafts. About the day I lost a friend to suicide.
Ciel De Verre Apr 2020
A collection of words dancing upon the blank
canvas of my screen.
Mocking me, they sit
unaudited, unfiltered, nonsensical strings
of words that fit so beautifully,
so tempestuous, they sit
together.
Next page