Poetry Drafts

lovecatgirl:

He, he tasted of metal, rusted and corroding like an acid in my mouth. Me? I tasted like cotton candy, warm maple syrup and a hint of buttered rum. I knew it then, in that moment…We were destined to destroy each other…I could hardly wait.

-bunniblue

adamantseal:

I know
now
the words
were never
mine

ceeslife:

She’s a mystery dressed up as a memoir

An autobiography that will never be published

An unconscious fiction

A daughter of Heisenberg

Uncertain, unless alone.

“I’m Only Myself When I’m Alone” ©Cee Hunter

September 2017

fifty-shades-of-apathy:

A beating heart

filled with black ink

enough to pen 

ten thousand truths

trickling out from wounds

bleeding onto the pages

from one cut flows

ten thousand poems.

fifty-shades-of-apathy:

life as a rough draft

a Van Gogh in finger paint

beauty with no frame.

fifty-shades-of-apathy:

My mind has

four walls,

a ceiling,

and a floor –

I’ll let you know

if I ever find

a door.

desayunogratis:

In moments of darkness , even my shadow abandons me

Wolfie

undertheheart:

I can feel youth leaving my body daily

A natural human right

To decay one day at a time

torrentialmonsoon:

Don’t force anything; the art is lost in anything forced.