Prose

"RETROSPECTIONAL REMEMBERING"
INSPECTION OF REMINISCES OF RETROSPECTION AI MEMES OF HOW FAST TIME GOES SO FAST RECOLLECTION OF MUSIC HOW IT CAST
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 years ago in Poets
Skeletons & Friends
Sitting in my closet trying to befriend the skeletons but they're too busy laughing with my ghosts. The ghosts are jumping on the bed,
By Ellie Hoovs2 years ago in Poets
A Reply to RP
Another trip around the sun, done. Needs fulfilled, wants waiting in the queue. New horizons - distant, but worth the walk, while
By Dana Crandell2 years ago in Poets
Denial?
Me? A broken heart? Please, I'm a man! I ain't got no feelings to hurt! I don't miss her at all. No... Not her hair...or those eyes...
By Kendall Defoe 2 years ago in Poets
Not My Underwear
This underwear isn't mine. And is this a woman's driver's license?? Wait-- I recognize her. Oh God. The news said she was found
By Maureen Y. Palmer2 years ago in Poets
The End of Us
He said to believe through all the bruises I told me have faith through the fear Whatever you long for You will not find it here
By Ellie Hoovs2 years ago in Poets
Taking off The Rose Colored Glasses
Rose colored lenses run in my family, So red flags always looked normal. They were lost to me when I was drowning in a tumultuous sea
By Ellie Hoovs2 years ago in Poets
Dawn
Starlit moments caught in the breeze are filled with echoes of memories captured in the dark where only the moon can see.
By Ellie Hoovs2 years ago in Poets
To all the dreamers
This one is for all the dreamers In the bounty existence that we breathe, Crafted with moments, captured by the fulfilled deeds.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
The eternal embrace of nature’s cry in the bane of existence
The eternal embrace of nature’s cry in the bane of existence How contradictory is the being of humanness in its unfathomable stance,
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
My Pink Flowers I implore you
I need you to let me... Let me be the me I want to be so I can love the real you, I implore thee. Let my hair grow long, so you can brush it with your fingers.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman2 years ago in Poets
I Missed the Call
Why do I keep hoping, mistakenly expecting, that things will get better. I have shut my mind to so many things. Could I survive the world without the multicolored lotus of my tormentors? So I ask "What do I contribute?" and the future Buddha answers, "That is the wrong question."
By Stéphane Dreyfus2 years ago in Poets