I huddle by your
Fireplace, searching for warmth
Only to get burnt
poetry in progress
How does it work?
This <3
Oh wow, I love this. A full story in 17 syllables. Magnificent. ❤️
More stories from Poppy and writers in Poets and other communities.
I. The timelines are frayed and worn and bleeding together like false hope. A cedar wood scent has you turning to search for cerulean eyes. They are already trained on you. You look away instinctively, heart fluttering, hands shaking.
By Poppy 3 years ago in Poets
There’s a silent strength that flows through feminine veins, One hidden behind a pasted smile and a black sense of humour,
By Colleen Millsteed 4 days ago in Poets
“I was looking for a doll or a book, and I found a baptismal certificate. A piece of paper that, in one second, changed the chemical composition of my world. Mother’s name: Inka. Father’s name: A slash (/). Emptiness.”
By Magma Star3 days ago in Poets
“I told you we were going too far off trail,” said Clark. “I thought Ammon said he could read a compass,” said Kit. “Guys, it’s easy, we just need to find a river or stream and follow it. Those things always lead to civilization,” Ammon said and pushed through thick patch of bushes.
By Amos Gladea day ago in Horror
Comments (2)
This <3
Oh wow, I love this. A full story in 17 syllables. Magnificent. ❤️