Her cerulean eyes
A whirlpool of misery
I willfully drown
I write and take photos.
How does it work?
Good
Wowπππ
More stories from Chad Verzosa and writers in Poets and other communities.
What's reality? The horizon and the sea A bleary faΓ§ade
By Chad Verzosa3 years ago in Poets
Here under the shadow of this carnelian rock, under the dead laurel tree is a handful of dust. There is no water.
By Harper Lewisa day ago in Poets
Hidden ink βοΈβ¨ shifts lines Truth dances ππ΅οΈββοΈ in veiled whispers π«οΈ Pages breathe deceit β‘π These words are not just poetry .. they are a reflection of reality. The files have been tampered with, hidden, and reshaped to shield the guilty. Truth is not negotiable, and silence is complicity. πβ
By Aarsh Malik3 days ago in Poets
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The blush turns orange and pink. It seeps into my very soul, where I feel I am sinking. Sinking and falling.
By Melissa Ingoldsby6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Good
Wowπππ