Tagged: poetry
March 1, 2017: i’m obsessed

source: magicalpetals
with a lot of things.
sunsets, snapchat, trippy gifs and visuals
ta-ku and old memories Continue reading
ENERGY

source: utrippy
lively spontaneous me, galloping around the place
good vibes radiating in my headspace Continue reading
Guest Post: 10:20 pm (MATH 3000)

source: untrustyou
Put me in a matrix multiplied by the objects of life
2 bitten pencils, no eraser, sign of strife
Trainwreck identity, not a housewife
Dishwasher suds, no spoons, I eat off a knife Continue reading
Spread Out Too Thin.
I’m ankle deep when I should be up to my chest
I want to immerse myself in you but I’m afraid
that I’ll lean in and find out that you’re nothing but an imprint
See, I’ve tried this before but I made a big mistake. Continue reading
Aligning Text: A New Stylistic Tool To Enhance Your Writing
Yeah, I’m a mega-nerd, as mega-nerdy as they come.
Text alignment isn’t just for right-aligning headers and center-aligning titles and tabbing over for paragraphs and such. You, the creator, can utilize it as a stylistic tool in your writing. Continue reading
13 Ways To Say I Love You
One. I’ll pluck a strand of your hair and compare it to honey,
light brown and translucent in the sunshine.
Two. I’ll fall in love with a bad song you recommend, only because you love it.
Three. I’ll take you somewhere I love because I want to show you where my soul goes to hide. Continue reading
Guest Post: Departure
It feels like just days ago I was a timid little kid,
fresh, green, young, inexperienced,
taking my first steps through these unfamiliar halls,
cowering in the shadows of the seasoned veterans.
These gates seemed so high and imposing,
walls like a prison, thick, sturdy, inescapable.
The faces I saw and voices I heard as I trudged along
grew dull and monotonous, blurred together
like raindrops running down the smooth glass
of the great window that was my life:
fragile, bland, unblemished, clear.
Simple.
Continue reading
PTSD
Remember this smooth coffee, this crisp biscuit
It will never be without weevils or sand
If you manage to return, plan to walk your dog
It won’t matter where your foot lands
Driven Mad By Time
In this room I am suffocating
the walls, the desks, the floor, the boards
are all a varying shade of cream Continue reading
Something is wrong with this class
Something is wrong; I’ve discovered a terminal illness
That makes me sit in class with a death-like stillness
Leaving scars on my conscience; a limb must be severed
The remedy is bankrupt, despite my endeavors Continue reading