I count the times I laugh
in between words that
are simply
not true.
You made me so damn
self-aware of how
I replaced my tears
with laughter.
Tickle your toes. . .
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Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
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a know-nothing non-something, a song, a back-slap, a tree without sap. crowned with ceremony and melancholia- a whistle, a snap. a marriage ...
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shake up my heart and flavor your life it is full of holes. you cannot see me for I am brow deep in my old pain and I cannot speak because I...
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Recently I have been really attempting to delve into what it means to be a poet. Jim Morrison once wanted to be a poet, and look where it go...
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There is something spooky about me. I am certain of it. Or else why does the thought of you dying for me, somehow slightly perk me up. Bette... -
So, I'm a sympathetic. But I've decided- Sympathy is reckless. A virtue; punishable. Look at the kind of behavior that it influences...
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I'll find you- in muted early morning light falling around curves of flesh causing ancient thoughts to ignite and filling hearts with fo...
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That previous December, a little voice was coyly in-treat-ing: "Take an angry butcher knife to your hair, and paint it the color of a s...
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Such a sweet face. But she still doesn't know her place. When you read your poetry to us, try not to make such a fuss. It's difficul...
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Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
Poets United Contributor
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