"yern" poems
Inner working of my insanity you know well.
green fairy cube of sugar over ice water
its tender journey few need to undersand.
So you travle a abstract road and bury your soul
underneath the ice.
Cold in hell beauthy in darkness veils of sanity but
velvet embers of a strange haunting scene.
It is the curse and i the moth to it's flame.
death of tommorows cast visions of a oceans sound.
I am but a leaf cast over dark waters never struggle just drift.
In history I travle speaking in tones surreal to my ear.
if so shall i slip will insanity be but a moment fractured in dream.
Screams in a far off space so distant from mine.
No pain exists here for im gone in form.
A painting in a stars t moon cast scenes erased by light.
Where i go none should follow for the price is
only for the distant in thought to pay.
Emptyness cascades in the past so for now here i yern only to
stay.
Green in light wormwoods fire sweet in bliss.
No path is ever set.
Tragedy in play i cast no regrets apon my stage.
A ear in respect a razor in hand.
I slice into a faint glimmer no pain shall I understand
nights cloak the dawn days cast stories unwritten.
In genius we find insanitys child.
Broken glass cuts clear my moments are chipped
as of stone.
Time knows me not for i am but speck in a waters fall.
Nightmares and my destined fate.
Kissed of vemon.
She in madness hold's open the path to
my visions gate.
Between death and dream insanity and a razors gleam.
From the darkest space does my page bleed to write.
Will you **** my thought only glorify the loss of mind.
In the drinks madness my genius I shall never yern to find.
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 6:24 AM UTC
The colour of love is Red.
It's thick like blood,
**** powerful, sinister.
Once you get it you need it to survive.
The colour of love is Blue.
It's like the sky,
Gentle, smooth, enlightening.
Wide, it can't be contained,
It only contains.
The colour of love is Purple.
It's like a bandaid,
Fun, mysterious, bold.
Covers and helps the healing process,
But hurts you when it is removed.
The colour of love is Green.
It's like a tree,
Free-spirited, fresh, youthful.
It gives life, food, norishment,
It only survives if you feed it.
The colour of love is Pink.
It's like a pair of high heal shoes,
Girly, happy, funny.
Elevating, increasing, aching,
Tall enough to be notice and to be ignored.
The colour of love is Yellow.
It's like the sun,
Bright, beaming, it stands out.
The bigger it is the more you see it,
And the closer you get the more you get burnt.
The colour of love is Orange.
It's like a good laugh,
Surprising, uncontrolable, ugly.
Once you start it's hard to stop.
It's addictive you yern for the feeling.
The colour of love is White and Black.
It's like ying and yang,
Needs to be balanced in order to exist.
Impossible to be live without and equally impossible to live with.
It's not a colour, can't be described.
~Gabbriella with 2 b's~
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 6:55 PM UTC
I glimp fragments of you
while you sleep
This sad heart
it does weep
Perfect love
now in the past
A beautiful union
never meant to last
Eyes look at me
with an intensity
of things that use to be
Makes my heart yern
for the melodies
your fingers
once played upon my skin
Precious
tender
melodies
drawn from deep within
I see you hiding
just beyond my reach
Behind
Sad
Confused eyes
Your beautiful mouth
Know with out speech
So sad my aching heart
every day we're togeather
Closer comes the day
when we shall part
Soulmate, Lover, Confidant, Friend
By your side I shall be
till the very end
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 11:03 AM UTC
Its always in goodbye we taste what is the essense of that scar called love.
Pain in nature and no words can capture remorse as well as a milepost in a reaview of thought.
It was there we togather once called home now like a tombstone it stands a marker of what was never to be.
Fracture of heart and bitterness my seal.
Im the leftovers of another we can cleanse this logic or simply say ***** it all and regress.
Forever a lie to the young and a curse to the old.
Has it burned this earth and killed me to all that dare to know
what I could never explain.?
A dance of years now a thought no drug has yet to erase.
Pills aside your drug was the best poisen ive known even with another I
know paradise was a cancer ive long since left behind yet a simple moment can make me slide
into a vice that will see me fall for the last time till next.
Im the clown that circus left behind.
Now a skeleton for home I ask why leaving takes a milestone and emptyness a downpour
as my desert has long stayed dry.
Read the riddle like a oinion pealed only more layers remain.
hell has welcome thought for ive found more toture here.
Voices haunt my thoughts as emptyness thrives inmy existance.
Its has misreble as when we knew each others love please drown so I can
breath life into this wornout frame one last time.
Winter's chill reminds me of what we never had yet again.
People often question what has no meaning to begin with.
As for me I avoid its poisen a scared child hidden in shadow of a
lesser man.
Nothing stands as a reminder of pages wasted in promise of a day that never came.
Sometimes I view that place were we were more than a bad memory and a traggic vice.
Sometimes I yern only for end to what has never been allowed to begin.
The worst prison of all is the mind.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 2:04 PM UTC
Miles go I seldom care.
None cross the path fear is adrug I need to exist.
The road my hunting ground night my world.
In my view the lights a becon caliing the road holds no mercy.
The weak shall be erased.
Im a dealer in pain.
Hell's highway calls me every mile is a battle of will.
Do you know my name?
speak it in fear of long nights traveling alone.
Souls matter none for it's the flesh I yern to own.
Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 3:41 PM UTC
The sweat from her skin but a creation of passion.
In the rapture of plessure no prisoners taken.
Rage made passion, plessure made the moment.
Inside from the storm the encounter was torment of the best kind.
The bed creaked as a ****** end would only inspire more vivid
desires.
More than *** was a moment of two bodies colliding
on the plessure cast road to release.
Flesh meeting and all false manners cast aside
the primal motives always kick in.
Her body was a shared experience theater for
of a wicked plessure.
Her skin pure in such a jaded since.
Tommorow would the moment be lost in some sort
of awkward rythm of stillness.
Two stranger's who need reason to meet.
Or would the true self speak above the moral code.
The drink of life I so wish to drown within tonight.
Naked thoughts bared scars.
We would venture back to circles her's would view her
a ***** for knowing happiness.
And mine would yern to only hear of conquest but
see in mirror and dream with deaf ear.
It was a plessure to embrace chaos.
So may we drown togather again.
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 8:15 AM UTC
Take this hand.
May I guide you within the depths?
So traggic to view her this way.
White in a doll of china's mask of death.
Tormented did a candles light cast doubt's with no hand to grasp
a wrist bled slow.
Tea leaves and incense.
Masked air of rosemary the record scratched and was inturn
left unherd.
Thoose eye's captured want yet
never could clasp a heart or lockets match.
Was it as planned?
A slow regression into a blackend fade.
A cloth over lamp.
It dimmed the light but never the flawed beauthy.
that I knew well.
Sleep in a life none would yern to awake.
My heart did linger in a thought as overcast skies blue eye's
did paint my thought's gray.
Cold was perfection a raindrop viewed from inside.
I kissed you last as first I bid farewell.
That night you took from many yet only thought as one.
A tormented love a single rose.
So tender you were stained of many.
But a portraiht to me.
Your words a soon to be epitapth of my pain cast memory.
Thank you for never seeing me as so many befor.
Many works of art are cast in pain.
Dove's of life often cry a tear when met to dirt.
I held you close once apon a empty floor only not tight enough.
Music that cast a passion lights so dim often gliow with soul.
I see you now and think of that time.
Tender in a stone that is a chamber I call my heart.
I wish I could have brushed away the pain.
As I did a hair that night from your face.
Thoose eyes a void of passion life often does ****
If you had taken that hand would we have found ourselves?
Or simpley lost it togather in a vague chance at bliss?
I remember you still.
A painting of a woman known to many but who's heart
was shared only with me.
That moment apon the bar's empty floor forever fill's my
thought's
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 7:17 PM UTC
Sunset at my horizen and far to much regret apon me.
The story forever the same a jilted lover a midnight kiss.
Often ive tasted the wine to avoid the saltwater tears and a distant shores redemption.
Lights from the carnival tatterd dreams and the Jersey shore.
Far gone my thoughts hollow is the bottle burried in sand.
Why do we embrace the pain to only understand the stage traggic by design.
In eye's often reflected I recall you but never understood myself.
As children we yern for what seems a ghost hunt in a moments time.
Im still walking but no longer can I sense my return.
Footsteps burried in saltwater washed in a long vanished time.
It only takes a song to go back yet a foolish pride and a storm couldnt make him
turn to her.
Ive known many faces yet never understood one.
Take me to sunsets demise and a night skies birth.
Toast a broken soul and ******** logic for it's all I have to give for now.
The lights from afar seem no more distant than I.
the sunsets my canvas the waves crash my song.
Whispers of what never was pillow talk and tommorows thought.
All intentions often merge with the same long walk.
I understood nothing more clear .
Then when she uttred the words goodbye.
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
The pains so deep, it hurts so much
I try to smile but tears just flow,
I try & hide it & most dont no
I yern for a child.
Sickness, stretch marks, sleepless nights i'd take it all,
The pain would all be easier than it is right now.
I see people just complaining, they want a break, wishing things were easier & nights didn't go on so late.
Girls becoming mothers at a tender young age, not knowing what to do or to expect,
Others not caring not wanting things to change, just wanting life to continue as it did before,
Then there's those who feel angry that it happened to them, those giving up there children or hurting them in ways that i can't even bear to hear.
Whereas all i want is to be called mammy & feel that love so strong,
Id give them my all & teach them all the things to know, id play & laugh, teach & love & hold them in my arms.
I want to feel them kick inside,
I want to see that very first smile,
I want to feel their little hand grasp onto mine, hear their little laughs & hold them close when they cry.
Drity nappys im happy to change,
Getting up throughout the night would be a joy to see their face,
The expense dont matter, we'd pull though.
I long to be a mammy to a little boy or girl.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
To sit and spin
Our blood within.
Must travel & turn'th
For oxygen it yern'th.
So too the earth doth spin
Similarly warmed from within
It rotates around a point of union.
The generation of Helium from Hydrogen.
The sun releases its emission of light and heat
The catalyst that allowed your heart to beat.
So too the planets worship the star
Forever in view but yet too far
Although it can create
It can destroy without debate.
It shall burn until its fit to burst
And explode to what it was once first.
Stardust.
I see it everywhere
It's in your eyes and in your hair
That special way that you sit and stare.
Oh, to be part of a perfect pair.
Only such beauty could be formed from a shining star.
If only you were not so far.
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 1:55 PM UTC
Were all crazy the dreamers the broken like children left
behind sad eyes are but windows cast in pain.
that hurt we share as some will hide it away.
Ive taken the matter in deep thoughts and echos of brillance.
Only to see it die as a spark from cold winters fire.
Alone you here the sadness in the most gentle key.
As it wispers for the broken.
Down alleys side streets to lonley old souls
who yern just for someone to speak with to share but
are met with only rejection left to count the hours.
The clocks rythm taps slowey asking the emptyness to
waste in thought only to bask in dellusion.
Like a snow globe were caught in a vortex of a isolated storm.
Yerning for a release the bed is a coffin frozen are the covers
as the thought lingers if only it had gone another way.
But dreamers are gamblers and in the warmth of good hand theres always a lonley heart that had to fold.
The man in the street looks to other as others look through him.
Afraid the curse may catch but in his eye's i see myself.
And in myself I see a victem of another bad hand.
Alone I know you in that place few will dare to search.
The cavern of thought is but my asylum of emptyness
And the clock's rythm keeps time in the key of night.
Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 9:31 PM UTC
It was built for 2
My now lonely bed
But all those memories
Still fill my head
Sleepless nights
That haunt me
The warmth of her
That taunts me
I yern for the one
Who can fill this empty space
The one who can cure me
And bring love back to this place
I want the girl
Who too has her sleepless nights
I'll make them go away
Just let me hold you tight
It's lonely now
This bed made for 2
I wish I had you here
It's meant for me and you
Aug 23, 2011
Aug 23, 2011 at 12:32 PM UTC
Into eye's I see distant reflections of that person
only they see.
The jokes told,lies shared,soul's in rapture over
the iced hell.
The forms fill my thoughts yet never trouble my mind.
That embrace of emptyness.
She can never understand.
******** we are selfish giving to all.
Not sharing with a soul.
I cannot conform to a life not my own.
Bitter the king hold's court.
With a jester apon his throne.
How can I yern for thoose eye's I shall
never fulfill.
Act's of one are pale to the truth of none.
Were the addicts that which we may never score.
Lost in the promise blind to reality's lie.
Broken is the heart I've taken from myself.
To shun the happiness on a single chances wealth.
The eye's in the darkness cut through me never seeing
the man beyond the words.
Burried in a agony of endless guilt.
Contact of another isnt the reason.
Bliss is moments to **** the pain.
Caught in my vices like a fool slowley going
insane.
The lights cast shadows yet it's me who's
hiding.
Punchline's and simple flirts season's in
hell.
A vacation underneath a darklit sky.
I stand frozen in life free of form.
Lost as any leaf apon the waters of a oncoming storm.
Battles in soul losses in heart.
Togather in madness.
As strangers we part.
Bleeding to death living for seconds.
Sharp in contrast unclear in time.
She cries for the man and ignore's the stranger
he's become.
The eye's remain blind.
Seeeing as illusion.
Living as I die.
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 12:26 AM UTC
After the smoke clears from this room.
Will question why.
As you push ME into the depths.
As I lifted you from your self appointed gloom.
So take his hand cause happiness has another
name.
You can close your eye's.
but it's never the same.
Can we ever forget that which we did
not understand.
you hide the pain.
But secrets dig into your soul
like barbwire in hand.
She ran with what wasnt supposed to be.
Sweet suduction it was in such devlish fun.
To bad it was so very clear to all but me.
Under covers bodies without thought collide
locked in the passion of night.
Taking flustrations out in plessure.
You appear as a vision get your fix then vanish from sight.
Cheating the heart fractrued given to two.
You question with lies.
As I yern to hold the woman I belive is you.
And so I exist in a mystery only you can
solve.
im the ***** secret across the tracks.
The dirt underfoot in which my heart does revolve.
If only the feeling could last.
I question while off to another.
Would you stay it was you fading with the past.
Worn from it's trappings you crawl.
Wash away the truth.
Confession of pillow talk that
seep into the wall.
So is the story of the confussed woamn who
fractured her heart over two.
And the man who only did thirst for the
one he thought he knew
Nov 26, 2009
Nov 26, 2009 at 3:12 PM UTC
Oh how i yern for a classy girl like the one in my dream
The type you see on the silver screen
Romantically spoken
Unraveling her ****** being without showing anything
God was I born in the wrong era
To have a beauty around my arms worth the sincere charms
Would be my moment of triumph
Taking her on a moonlignt drive listening to some jazz
Or a lovely candle lit dinner with roses to make her blush
Oh what a rush it would be to find my dream girl from the sliver screen
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 10:00 AM UTC
california
gracious and prestiges
inadvertantly
equally overcrowded
the water the sand
the brisk breeze
i miss you
you squeeze my hand
I want to scream
this is the facts
i want him back
the trees
the unfriendly cold
makes me yern
for your love
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 11:41 AM UTC
Pills' partys the last seven years washed unclean.
Streets now empty past there prime and looking
to score.
Ive lived till the edge is dull.
I sit knowing theres nothing more.
Are we as ****** up as are parents befor?
The answers passed down are but secondhand
mistakes.
As the madess goes from funny to something altogather sad.
My eyes blind yet still able to see.
My own personal hell thoughts of a far off escape.
Hope is but sweet dellusion not ment for me.
When the flame is gone darkness signals the change.
fake words concern is but a vice carried to the lost soul.
To live in the circle is but to embrace a soft cage.
No life is a end at its false start.
A chord lost in time.
shadows I chase to there darkest end.
Laughter hides the so clearly seen.
Hate take's my passion as time take's my
story the final verse to share with none.
Im the ******* of a stranger I know well.
He reflects the prison for which I yern for this nights release.
Dying in seconds counting hours.
Killing the drug strangles my air.
A painter never shows his thoughts.
Just covers his canvas.
Tomorrow I will no longer see your failure.
As in days I will embrace the emptyness
you no longer control.
Vacant is the space windows and empty eyes.
The time 5:oo am strangers will take the story
rewrite my past.
Lie's are a freedom I no longer need.
Goobye's a return's promise.
I can no longer say.
Im exhuasted yet I know its best to fill
the page.
But that southern breeze will now be my home.
In sunsets i hope you see what never was.
Charm of a maniac the sense of a legend to never be.
Darkness I wish i had shared tears are the taste
of a talent that never was me.
the glass is empty.
Sep 28, 2010
Sep 28, 2010 at 1:43 AM UTC
Friends one with whom I shared a drink.
Are now ghosts who haunt my heart dear.
Most left to find that which in life they did thirst.
But with seasons I did remain like some old pillar unable to
move.
Feet planted tears caressing a bitter face hiding
the fact that goodbye had come all to soon.
Cards underneath my door.
Unfamilar faces make me question do I exist anymore.
Old passions destroy new flames.
Nights alone cast shadows.
You find more comfort in dreams
The whiskey that burns is all that reminds.
You haunt this body like a vacant building
most seem to ignore as they pass its once warm
structure.
My soul knows midnight my heart emersed in the
agony of truth.
We yern for warmth in the comfort of pain.
Memories are like scars a prison of the mind.
Greetings from outskirts.
For I am the at home with the left behind.
Like a character in a novle ment to entertain im
lost in the back pages of life.
But if you ever question just turn back in reflection.
For they may have fled but im sill here.
Oct 28, 2009
Oct 28, 2009 at 9:45 AM UTC
Down by the water
Ive been here so many times broken hearts and many old wounds that never heal.
It's so hard to admit when you hate the person you are.
When catch that dream to relize its a nightmare by design.
Why cant I just break through it why cant I just get past the demons of dessire and cleanse
myself of the sin inwhich I seem to thrive?
Honestly suicide looks better by the second.
Im losing it yet still i linger like some sad prize fighter who's
taken one to many a blow.
I yern to destroy who ive become only to find who I could actully be.
Im a man who cant seem to think past vice.
A wornout joker who's fallen this time for good.
**** this nightmare please help ive lost befor I even began.
Burn the memory till it scars my thought **** please stop this !
Im losing yet ive grown to jaded to care.
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 2:50 PM UTC
Partys for couples new lovers and just friends.
Music to fill the night the streets of New york
breath life to old flames keeping even jaded souls warm.
The lonley gather round the TV.
sharing a glimpse at something we all yern to have.
And from the up high the streets seem magic tonight.
the soudtrack of the night will echo
into are hungover minds with a painful yet happy reminder
of last nights celebration.
Late night lovers will smile and go there awkward ways.
So many acts in so many different plays.
creeping back to are corners in lastnights suit and tie.
Tight little black dress kiss worn lips
acting happier than two kids ragged in need of a shave
you with hair in a mess.
And for friends that gather to relive not so real
past glory.
The pages are left to the writter.
To add to lastnights not so original story.
As the barflys gather to battle another unsober day.
I watch this first new day anew.
Take a sip from my flask and thank the lord
for one more year with you.
And tonight I say to you all raise that glass.
kiss that stranger you know so well.
Laugh love and live.
And thank whomever ya choose weve made it through another
year to tell.
Dec 31, 2009
Dec 31, 2009 at 8:48 AM UTC
Where is my moon?
I ask these questions to you
I need a woman so self assured
A gem so beautiful & hungry for truth
Where's the love I so willingly yern for?
I guess i'll be searching for you in another life time
For I've looked in my life time without success
My hope for true love is all but gone
I wished for long conversations
Intimate kisses
****** curesses
So my scroll of what could be is dead
The willow tree of her & I pictured in my mind is gone
The slow song of when we first engage in tender love making is erased
Im sorry for my displaced non existence hope of love
A fairy tale unfit for this awful era of life
So let me end this with 2 words
Why love?
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
I'm just another kid with pills and a wish to be killed.
I'm gonna do it I keep telling myself.
I'll swallow unspoken words,
Taking shots of pills like it's natural.
Maybe it would be better with only my face upon a bookshelf.
Should I leave a note?
Risk leaving the bathroom floor and everyone see me?
Maybe it would be easier to let these pills but free me.
The pills are in my hands right now,
Light as a feather usually, but now it's like holding a boulder,
Like a bullet I'd wanna shoot through my head to stop the thoughts.
I have but no one to lay my head upon their shoulder.
The hopes I wouldn't feel this way today,
shattered like glass, sharp as a knife that pierced through porcelain skin.
Like I have to **** myself to prove a point no one cares for.
Like I have a chance of being a boy instead of hoping only in my core.
I got her mad so she wouldn't care,
Send my ****** dead body but a glare.
But what would mom think?
Seeing her "daughter" dead on the floor by the sink.
The thought of it being her fault, the pills stain her brain like ink.
Everyone's neutral, it's the perfect time.
Maybe they'd think of my guts as but slime.
But if I were to die it would be selfish,
As my dad would've already cried and became less sheepish.
Would his kid with pills cause him to be squeamish?
I feel disgusting,
I feel like ****
I don't want to, but I do as I sit.
I hate people like a man lusting.
I can't love, It doesn't fit like a glove.
Maybe one day I can stop it,
Fly free of these thoughts as if a dove.
I wish I didn't hate or love,
Wish I didn't think of these pills as if a gift from above.
I like my friends though, they're cool.
They only but sometimes leave me sitting on a stool.
They're not necessarily cruel,
Someone I yern to become.
Yern to not be so nervous,
To be less skittish.
Maybe I yern to be anyone but me,
Yern to be what people see as me.
I'm not all of what one might think,
I cry after each blink.
Cause at the end of the day I'm not "mature" or "cool",
I'm just another kid with pills in reach.
Feb 18, 2025
Feb 18, 2025 at 7:25 PM UTC
At nights when they stumble back to there corners of the world I
sit keeping the neon cast shadows company.
Old dust covred piano plays to a concert of empty stools and
a old ghost or two.
The music fades like a smoke ring to vanish where none will know.
As a homeless soul stumbles from the shadowsto cross the
empty street.
The glass sits half empty as I continue to play.
As beaten as a broken tail alley cat.
We all yern for comfort but in this life.
Often were met with a back hand.
I play as nothing will ever change.
The broken soul so very tender and strange.
And wait for the for them to return from there corners.
To mask my troubles and fill this dark empty bar.
Mar 6, 2010
Mar 6, 2010 at 9:27 PM UTC
As a cool wind from the cemetary im found dead in thought
Yet alive in jaded soul.
Breaking towards reflection of the place i never belonged at all.
Amoung the corpse of a past regret so many thoughts.
In endless hours of worry it seems so easy to forget.
In this place rest is never final.
As I recall her scars the candle hid her intentions in shadow.
Wine as life flows untill the bitter end.
Notes to a suicide poems of angst known only to it's
misery laced author.
We cast clouds in sun lit skies.
Some pains bring happiness to thoose who cant see
past the self absorbed dellusion we call memory.
The oceans rythm a bottle kisses the thought.
It's alone my thoughts understand my ****** up reason.
Adictions of fear junkies of need.
Ive found my place in a empty corner by the fires light.
You cant lose your grip when you never had hold.
Frayed are the edges of this worn book.
Devils in thought always know ladies who yern to
taste the wicked madness without regret.
That tortured soul the depth that isnt there.
Blind from the excess even old vices seem more like
tired acts for others amusment.
It's in these hours i see the damge and beautiful flaws
of age.
Contact is hollow when the vessel is empty as I.
The monster ive become clings to the reflection of thought.
As the rose dies for the memory of a bitter past.
Gone are the reasons.
A final drink to the lights that to often fade.
Jan 7, 2011
Jan 7, 2011 at 3:15 PM UTC
i read a poem that made me question
the things i've been calling poetry
it made me feel that what i write
simply isn't enough
i could do better
the poem was about a woman
and i felt whole
and the words weren't for me,
about me,
but i felt whole
in ways i can't explain
and i'll never be able to
but i thought to myself
that this is poetry
and this is what words
are supposed to do
they're supposed to make
you feel things
regardless of what
and i kept wondering
if my words
have that effect
i want people to yern,
long,
hope,
survive off my words,
devour them
and i want my words
to leave them longing
and hoping for just a bit more
and i read this poem not once,
not twice,
but three times,
eating up the words like they
were the last meal on earth
and i felt whole
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 2:33 AM UTC