poetry in progress
So massacre my self-worth, claiming I couldn't love you forever When we both know for a fact You're the one who ran out
By Poppy 2 years ago in Poets
I am falling from your memory Like I used to fall into your Calming presence, soothing smiles And gentle, gentle hands
I almost wished I was dead when you Buried me in apathy and Then haunted me for an age But your absence is like My medicinal
You left me as a rotting corpse and Then turned your back as I transformed Into a skeleton who Writes you letters, only
the love evaporated, vanished you placed the blame on my shoulders I carried it like Atlas simultaneously begging you for that
This is my patchwork heart That I have earned with Every tear and stitch Every bruise and bandage ❀ This is my trophy Moulded from starlight
I have never held A love as gentle as this In the palm of my hand ❀ Never before gotten to Trace its outline with a pencil
Welcome back everyone! Once again, the "rules" are simple: include one or more of the five word prompts in a poem, share the link in the comments, and submit as many as you want.
By Poppy 2 years ago in Writers
You’re a knife made for drawing blood. And you’re the kind of metal that gets forged into armour. But you have a softness like rain-soaked soil when it is only me running my hands through your words.
a/n: This is pretty different from my usual stuff and I'm not very confident in it so please tell me if you like it or if I should delete it :)
I dream of you. When summer creeps through my window, slipping between the curtains, and has me tossing and turning, sweat coating me like blood… I dream of you.
By Poppy 2 years ago in Fiction
How many different ways can I describe this blood on the floor? How many different pictures can I paint of you with your back turned? How many solutions can I hold in my palms and how many times can I watch them slip through my fingers?
