Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
25 times the has the sun rotate, legislative makes him a man, but in his mind he’s 5 years behind.
Mental progress of a heavy fortress ruins
his heavenly haven.
A step forward turn to a side setup toward a plunder-swamp.
In  his setting a corner room where he’s liberated free to roam the www.ild at his pace.
Family whom come to visit only to hide their true intentions of company.
A hierarchy of last names to enter a prefix have no value towards him.
Just his liberation.
I hope everyone is doing  well
Renie Simone Feb 11
We see things that other females
don’t pay a tuppence to.
Like a half-burned cigarette tail,
Your osculation of deep, dense rouge—
A secret trusted only by two.
With our own hands, we mimic time
And manipulate the world you once knew.
Falling in love with a writer is a faulty design.

To your heart, we assail
With words plunked to a tune;
In your soul, with great force, we impale.
From a love-front angle of view
You might feel a tad misconstrued,
like a poorly mixed cocktail.
Ricochet from baseline to fault line,
But every time you pull through ‘cause you knew,
That falling in love with a writer is a broken design.

When we close our eyes and slowly inhale;
We hear the laughter of a family in an empty room
And unveil the retold, recycled tales.
Picturing why the dust rests less heavily on one broom,
And can smell the meal Ma cooked when they came home from school.
From the underworld and past the skyline,
We scour everything down to its last detail.
Falling in love with a writer is a grueling design.

To us, your eyes flourish like flowers in June
With lips– silky like cabernet wine.
And although sometimes we forget to say we love you,
Remember that falling in love with a writer can be a beautiful design.
I can't remember what kind of poetry this was inspired by, any helpers? I wrote this in school while I still had Love in June engraved in my head.
Felt through the turquoise left in bloom.

Specialty repeat of your notebook.
Like sad lips.
Sad chairs.
Maybe... just maybe sad.
Not only blankets covering my head.
Your head.
Maybe once like on the lawn in Kauai.

Garrett Johnson.
Hmmm, yeah I think so.
your eclipse Jan 27
and yet even in the
midst of this chaos
there is a flower
blooming beneath you
[there must be a flower inside you. there must be; there has to be.]
-elixir- Dec 2020
The wind getting cold,
his words are getting old,
yet they keep me warm,
a step away from harm.
The letters I posted
stay lonely and ghosted,
in the icy wind frozen,
amidst the lies, brazen.
Your arrival bought me joy,
but just to hear you tell his ploy,
as you held out his resignation letter.
I turned into my own abettor.
mind's frozen in time while my reality is far into future.
Erika Dec 2020
my love language

is saying

that I HATE you


what I really

wanna say


   I LOVE you

but if I told you

that I loved you

as often

as I felt the urge to

you’d think that I was

aesthete Dec 2020
everytime i listen to this song, i always cry
for so long, i wonder what it's like to be loved right
you came, you showed me how

i hate the fact that this song has a story already
and i swear to god,
i've never been this in love
i will choose you everyday

i love you, q
i am so lucky to have you, thank you i love you
Flatfielder Dec 2020
Immense beyond comprehension
Once you hit time changes within
A country a human being
Only the latter might commit sin
The sinner the lover
Who plays by the rules
Ever-changing measures
To be hot to be cool
Changes in temperatures
A degree up maybe down
Dynamics of a country
Causing floods same time drought
Our hemisphere be large within
Like the country or sphere
How far do we look
To value we are here
Disrobe the rhythm in my heart.
Let it ceremonialize its own unsympathetic departure,
in the dead of winter.

Let it yowl like a pack coyotes.
Then let the wind take the
melody to Jupiter in Capricorn.
inspired by lexi's mingle
Next page