I'm all dried out, and you can't stand it. You loved it when rivers were running down my face, It gave you power: you got off on it.
By Jen Phillips10 days ago in Poets
Reasons why women can't run the world: Too emotional. Too hormonal. They belong in the kitchen. Too dramatic. BUUUUUUUUUUUUT
Who are you? Do you matter? Yes, you! I'll bet you matter. I don't think that I do. I have no legacy. No one will plant a garden, erect a building, or even a small statue in my honor when I'm gone.
By Julie Lacksonen10 days ago in Poets
Outrage is an extremely strong reaction of anger. It's also extremely valid, but for how long is a valid response? How long is too long to be outraged? No one is taking away the reasoning,
His Ashes Went Down The Toilet She waited until the house was quiet at last, no footsteps, no temper turning in the hall.
By Marie381Uk 10 days ago in Poets
It Was A Downhearted Day I Had A Bad Wave of Abandonment Wash Over Me... Childhood Fears, Still Haunts me... I Chose To Smile Anyway...
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)10 days ago in Poets
I am afraid of getting old. Not dying, that will come and does not scare me as much as what arrives before it, my body failing while I still need it,
By Tim Carmichael10 days ago in Poets
It's hard to be a perfect lady. So, let me give you a step by step guide. Be intelligent, but don't outsmart man. Have an opinion, but make sure it matches men's opinion.
By Jen Phillips11 days ago in Poets
Peaceful Apprehension There was a time when I wondered when the chaos would end I didn’t want all out drama to be my only friend
By Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue11 days ago in Poets
Perhaps if I touched you, passed my plague directly to you like leprosy, you'd understand Maybe if I breathed on you, exhaled my airborne bacterial or viral like 2020, you'd comprehend
By Paul Stewart11 days ago in Poets
Once, in the mirror, there used to be a face — a whole identity that answered to my name. What has happened to me now? What was I, before I became this?
By luna hart11 days ago in Poets
The caravan of life has passed through strange and unforgiving landscapes. There were valleys of silence, roads heavy with dust,
By Luna Vani11 days ago in Poets
