May 2013
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January 2013
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The Title is This: Poetry →
sidestonesound:
It is easier to break a poem
than to make one. Even more
to say that the words lack a punch
that though it makes you think
but does not stir you enough.
Or when they say that it falls short
of making you sit back and re-read
and shake your head in wonder
at how you never thought of this.
To all such critics, with their
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Writers Ire
coffee2much:
Ink dries faster than the blood spilled painting the gory grounds and so I spew venomous words and watch inflicted wounds
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Meraki
sebulas:
You take the blade in your hands
O how has pain become comfort?
When you rake the edge across you skin
Do you remember that you are alive?
What has happened in your mind?
I want to take every razor blade you’ve ever
Sliced yourself with
Melt them in a crucible
And pour a knife
For you
For protection
So that you have a trinket
A totem of memory
So that you never have to cut...
December 2012
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October 2012
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September 2012
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June 2012
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