Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
I Jumped
I jumped. I jumped from your arms. I jumped from this place. I jumped out of time and into infinity. Your kisses were toxic, and your touch was acid on my skin. Your smell still lingers on the tips of my hair. Your laugh still rings in the echoes of my mind. But I jumped. I had to. I had to choose myself over you. I deserve love, if nothing else. And you couldn’t even give me that. So what does that say about me? What does that say about you? The matter is, that although you are my everything, you will soon be my nothing. And for that, I am glad.
By Keima Rumbeau9 years ago in Poets
Why
This is your prison. This is how you die. The light flooding through such desperate eyes. This fragile lifetime, that tragic death, no one is promised another breath. Spend your time wisely. Hold tight to your dreams. Things in this life are not what they seem. Illusions of comfort, and tyrannical fear caged in the same body year after year. Anger and rage housed in benevolent calm, and hatred and love like a soul shattering time bomb. Drifters in space, So helpless, and unaware cling to the face that doesn't look as scared. Searching for love, and planning such meanness, they say every soul has its own million reasons. Live, laugh, love, die, rinse, repeat, and always ask why!
By Ashley Harper9 years ago in Poets
Inside
I stood inside your negligent stare and watched as your eyes rolled up into your sarcastically closed lids. The smirk that rolled up into the corners of your mouth spoke louder than any words you could have chosen. I felt the stones stacking just beneath my skin. I listened to every word you laced with abusive tones and aggressive snipes. I could feel distance spreading, but nothing moved. I watched your face crumble in anger, and seer through me from some pent up past rage. I began to feel an odd grief lingering in wait just beneath the stones. I searched every bit of information that I had, and prayed to find a way to disarm any hostility, but nothing seemed to be able to stop the numbing, cold insulation that was gathering around us. Somewhere, something couldn't, or wouldn't be said, and now it had festered into some intimate infection that threatened everything that bound us together...
By Ashley Harper9 years ago in Poets
