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Literature Text
Confessions of a misguided poet:
this is me being brave,
no echo of my footsteps
after the ice has melted.
There is a song for this,
but you've been gone finding
hindsight.
Borrowing the past,
I leave my heart in Haiti
where we should be.
this is me being brave,
no echo of my footsteps
after the ice has melted.
There is a song for this,
but you've been gone finding
hindsight.
Borrowing the past,
I leave my heart in Haiti
where we should be.
Literature
Dear Heart
Organs don't feel - chemicals make love.
Literature
Branches of Your Heart
Your roots have dug into my soul,
clung to the underbellies of my fears;
cradled my regrets with leaflets.
I watch as birds flit
between the branches of your heart.
You tell me that they always come back to
the ones they love most.
There are flowers peeking
behind your shoulder blades,
blooming brilliant petals while vines
wrap into the nooks of your skin.
With a sigh you decided
to move mountains
with your bark covered arms,
pressing the swollen earth farther
from you, creating a valley where
you and I can touch.
Literature
cadaver
she was born with arctic lips
and overcast skin.
her hair fell like fresh snow
and she was far too thin.
her bones in locked closets,
joints creaked and shrieked
like a rotten floorboard
under gossamer feet.
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Day HEY! I'm still offering up commissions for good deeds!
--A Title Poem for ~madameshadowenn for her good deeds in the form of journal features!Titles borrowed for this piece:
- confessions of a misguided poet
this is me being brave
No Echo of My Footsteps
After the Ice Has Melted
there is a song for this
you've been gone finding
Hindsight
Borrowing the Past
i left my heart in haiti
Where We Should Be
August 2013
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Comments24
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Very pretty. Good job!