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Sandoval Nov 2020
And if music were love, would my name
be the only letters you’d sing to the sky?



Sandoval
Sammi Yamashiro Sep 2020
Caffeine.
Nearing addict
status; once spurned pure black
but now it’s my composition.
Jitters

my thoughts;
next round is scotch:
Next, I’m alcoholic.
Yet, withdrawal never latches.
I’m safe.
Two Cinquains. Describes how I overindulge in coffee (I once couldn't stand the taste of black coffee and now I can't get enough of it) and I fear that alcohol will do the same to me (I don't like the taste of it but maybe I'll love it too much like I do coffee). Yet, even with coffee, I can drink heavy amounts of it for days and be completely fine (not experience withdrawal symptoms).
So with my anxious thoughts, they seem like they will stick with me forever but in the end, I'll be fine.
Norman Crane Sep 2020
Once upon a tiny planet,
a hunter and his rifle stalked their prey,
It always got away,
  until the day he fired—
Dropping dead,
with a bullet in the back of his head.
Attempt at microfictional poetry: a few lines and rhymes telling a story. This one's scifi.
Sammi Yamashiro Aug 2020
Trust:
that fickle antimatter;
still, I subsidize.
Diksha Dhiman Aug 2020
Even within all the gloom
Tangled weeds make you not to bloom
Remember to choose love
over and over again
In your heart
Let only faith make a room.
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