Tag: photography

i spy

i spy a forgotten dress, drapped over an off-white mannequin with only one hand. frills and bows, tulle and a stubbed noes, these dresses seem more like ghosts; hovering over the living and begroaning their forsaken fate. forgotten but found, i spy a kaleidoscope of butterflies woven into a moth eaten gown... 👗 https://www.instagram.com/p/Bho_WKTng_P/?taken-by=amateur__poet Advertisements

she lies beside me

she lies beside me tangled in expired dreams and pristine bedsheets. she sleeps, stubbornly, a question puckered beside her cheek: will my good deeds be met with a cure, to this loneliness that resides inside of me like a cold, cellar door? she tosses, she turns, she kicks, she coughs, and while i sit beside ...

almost like magic

the light caresses wonder and a tender emotion in your eyes. it’s almost like magic when the sun sifts through the wavering eddies of ether and smog to shine so brilliantly, it’s blinds✨

buttery spring

buttery spring has come to lick it’s cracked lips. buds are beginning to poke their heads from behind nature’s bosom. and me? me, im soaking it all in. the harmony; a concert of wide smiles and insects that shutter at night. pay the pipper to play my favorite song. lay your hair down and let ...

plight

heavy with words, but light from plight, dash away the tears because everything will eventually be set right. a rib cage cracked open, woven fingers and slices that taste like dizzy wine, bite down and scream. eternity bleeds from your eyes, immortal, the earth is your kingdom. command the clouds to weep. the earth to ...

winter’s grip

winter’s grip is reluctant to let go; a middle child abandoned by spring and fall, winter tears melt on the cheek of summer children and splatter their icy kisses on a bank of fresh snow❄️

you woke something inside of me

you woke something inside of me; something slumbering beneath a cloak of my own insecurities and doubts. such trivial sights were once mundane and pedestrian but now, now i take pause and contemplate everything around me. stories can be woven in every being, every element, every damning breeze: you have corrupted me. you opened my ...

maybe if i

maybe if i lived in a city where leaves never expire and the waters tremble and sigh, maybe i would always find solstice knowing that every day will be the same. paradise should sound appealing but isn’t strife what births my creative might? would i be able to write so hauntingly, so real, so open ...

i just

i’ve stopped dreaming about/ looking out for you in the crowd. the clouds; i don’t count the stars between us anymore; i just count, i just dream, i just aspire to become greater things without being entangled. you were a distraction-unhealthy and throbbing like a poison; ive found other passions, other men who know how ...

forgotten

forgotten; distilled air, we flowers know despair by another name, another face, another boy who tends to a garden of games. alcaldes to the winner; does it matter what I have to say? tragedy known by the look of indifference on your pretty face. why do you claim a piece of my heart, carrying it ...

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