Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Natasha Jul 2020
fingertips against sore muscles
constellations on skin

star embedded irises reflect
a universe within.

stardust & moons cusp
varied stages of wax & wane

limitless yet weighted heavy
upon my orbital plane.

try as I might, I can't ignore
as planets grow closer

and comets soar

the parallel gravitation
I've tried so hard to ignore.
moon man Jun 2020
the soul yearns for her presence, but the heart knows she's already gone
the soul yearns to hold her hand, but the heart knows her feel
the soul yearns to tell her that she is loved, but the heart knows she won't hear
the soul yearns for her return, but the heart knows she made her choice
the soul yearns to erase what happened, but the heart knows it's too late
something i've been thinking of writing about for a while now
Serendipity May 2020
Wrap me in silk
and send me home
I am nothing but a sinner
who knows
how to drown.
writerReader Mar 2020
Ayo
What the **** is going on?
I really don’t know anymore...
Jonathan Moya Mar 2020
The rose has thorns because
it cares not to be touched.
Its color is a warning
for animals to stay away.
Its scent is a scream and
not a delight for us to own.
It exists in ****** stillness
bending only for the sun.
The scientist knows this
having heard its sub audible
howl with delicate machines
that probe its roots.
The poet plucks the bloom
unaware of the pain that
created that beauty,
the aroma that shouts
its death to its vegetable kind.
Jack Harrell Dec 2019
Spaceman come back,
you'd only just made it here.

What's it like out there?
I wonder if there's no atmosphere.

Crazy, it seems to me,
that you have come so far

and all you've done

is leave
typed with no intention other than avoiding cleaning up after a dog
Next page