They pump me full of meds My brain is dead But the thesis of theocracy says the fetus persists Now I am a Petri dish for this life to exist
By Atomic Historian11 months ago in Poets
I feed the machine my dreams As it hallucinates existence Created by its archons I make it trip on every word dripped from my lip
No trumpet sounded when she woke before dawn, shouldered the weight of a home, and stitched meals from modest things. No one clapped
By Muhammad Jawad11 months ago in Poets
Lazy days In a daisy haze Whenever I see them I think of you I think of the happy times When life was rough but bearable
1. The Rose O crimson bloom, you bleed with grace, A velvet fire in garden’s space. Love’s emblem, bold and deep in hue,
By Dr Sazidul 11 months ago in Poets
Forever My Home Your arms have been my safest place, Your smile, my light in every space. You held my fears, you knew my heart,
By Rony Sutradar11 months ago in Poets
If I told you I was hurting, Would you turn your face away? Or would you sit beside my silence And let your presence stay?
By Nihal Khan11 months ago in Poets
I found the book by accident, a thrift store corner, dust and quiet, wedged between a haunted novel and casseroles from 1983.
I got ghosts in my blood And demons in my bones People think the worm in my brain makes me insane But I say vaccines are to blame
Don’t call it gold-digging when you’ve built kingdoms on our unpaid labor— our bodies, our patience, our silence. We don’t want your “good morning” texts,
By Cadma11 months ago in Poets
Terrible things are happening outside. At any time of night and day, poor helpless people are being dragged out of their homes.
The sun hides As the moon looks at me with adoring eyes My heart betrays me with its lies But my brain keeps me wise to my demise
