the discovery process objectionable but uncontested justified prejudice stayed within jurisdiction but not one single peer in the twelve
By ⸘jason alan‽4 months ago in Poets
Floating in a sea of disbelief Itching for relief Stripped of every belief I once held dear Bereaved of my self Shucking the sleeve of my former reality
By Atomic Historian4 months ago in Poets
Monroe succulent, also known as chubby little stone flower, has a natural, gentle beauty. With the light green color of the leaves, the pink, white, and yellow colors of the flowers will brighten up any space.
By HieuDinh4 months ago in Poets
I consume so I create. Living, breathing, becoming. In an age of overconsumption, I turn excess into expression.
By Marvelous Michael4 months ago in Poets
shards of thieves and bards drifting through the thee and you resting upon my waking head like morning dew as I lay in bed
By A. S. Lawrence4 months ago in Poets
last august i picked through photo albums and hard drives to provide my brother’s wife a roadmap of the hardening and softening of my brother’s face
By Steven Christopher McKnight4 months ago in Poets
We can all remember a time when we were little That one memory of when you accidently piddled Or when you got in trouble in kindergarten because you couldn't stop fiddling
By Connor Mudie4 months ago in Poets
They say we’re called the keepers Born with greedy fingers and soft tissue, we pull the world inward and allow it to mark unshaven shins with bruises the periwinkle of forget-me-nots
By Aimee Van Arsdale4 months ago in Poets
The thoughts were fleeting The sky was gray The moments we tried to remember Stuck in between realities Was it real Or a faded memory
By Thomas Terry4 months ago in Poets
Several weeks ago the daylight shortened and night began lengthening - An unspoken message to all that it was time to begin the season of gathering,
By Pōlani Monderen 4 months ago in Poets
Stepping into the field of things remembered by my mind is like stepping into a field of landmines because there's always something
By Emma K. Weir4 months ago in Poets
It was the morning that you left me Abandoned, alone, for dead That I realized I didn’t need you. — I said it abandoned, I said it alone
By Emma Mark4 months ago in Poets
