Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Colm Jan 19
The end
A poignant secret
See

You're my type of breeze
The height of trees
Whispering in the arms of wind
I can't wait for the beginning. Not the end.
Slightly Lovely Nov 2019
just lie down on the smooth soil,
and rest beneath these grey clouds.
feel the rain pound your body,
and listen to its rhythmic sound.
You breathe in and out,
the sky capturing your breath,
but for once,
you do not notice,
and your veins dance with life.
you are calm, as the vines creep beneath you,
slowly pushing, tearing at flesh that was once theirs.
plants begin to burrow through your skin,
sprouting out your mouth,
your chest,
your arms.
Blooming up to the calming sky,
flowers stealing your life away,
so you can rest.
close your eyes and let the world fade away.
This is it. breath out, let it go.
blushing prince Nov 2019
i met you in the middle of august
during the death of summer
but the birth of my life
the leaves were just beginning to turn
the shade of mustard
of my favorite yellow
the specks of gold inside the dog of my childhood
and you were a melancholy prince
a monsoon of everything I was always too busy looking elsewhere for
always on the cusp
now before my eyes it was terrifying  
I was too busy in my own sadness
always teetering on the verge of the roof
more mosquito bite than girl
when they asked why I was always writing
what could I write about if I wasn't ever talking to people
no sensory experiences but the ones I imagined
a shyness of a body
a flushing fever of a person
how could I explain
spill onto the kitchen sink gripping strangers' shoulders
crying I was in love with everything
and could that be such a bad thing
I didn't want to be a wound
but there we were
stealing groceries from the store and never sleeping
inside a romantic cocoon
I would go anywhere with you
be your favorite friend
a favored nervousness inside the pit of your amygdala
if you wanted me to
classical music playing while we make dinner with the food we took without asking always being more with less
Colm Oct 2019
Cold trails
Dark sparks
Wood chips drowning beneath waving path
No time
No chance
No opportunity left to embark

I've missed the stars
The skyward boat
It's filling mast has sailed away
And I am left standing
Beneath the reality
Of day

My reality
This day
As you sail away...

This one's about some kind words I once received. A mere word of thanks for me quietly giving up my seat. It was nothing special. But the memory of which has become quite precious to me. Very pretty.
Masha Yurkevich Sep 2019

Today,
I will give up.

All of these problems and struggles,
I've had enough.

I don't want this weight
on my shoulders,
I want all of this to be over.

My strength  is thin,
and I'm beginning to fall apart within.

Today,
I want to give up.







But I don't.



I don't want to give up.
But do I have to?
Next page