Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#rind
The orange. The peel. The rind. The bitterness of words, You left unsaid. You said you were tired, You said she was right. You kept writing, Like it would save him. Like it could change things. Like it would make him learn. Like it could make him Care about you. Care about the things she said, Care about the things she did, Care about choosing, Choosing you. You wanted him to peel the orange, But we both know, By now they're out of season.
0
May 14
May 14, 2026 at 11:48 AM UTC
II: i pio kofter lepda
it is easier to keep the rind on. to look at the orange on the counter and pretend it isn't going soft from the inside out. we think we're saving ourselves from the stinging spray, the way the juice burns the small cuts on our thumbs. but the longer we leave it unpeeled, the more the sweetness rots. and eventually, we aren't avoiding a mess— we are living in one. don't wait until the fruit is too far gone to share. peel it now. let it sting. at least you will finally know the taste of the truth.
0
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 10:55 PM UTC
rotting in the bowl
Night lowers its curtain of silence, my only time to steal away, and **** the flavour out of every lovely rind. It is its lime bitterness, mine to enjoy. If only I could taste it.
0
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 7:26 AM UTC
Night lowers its curtain of silence