Poeticous Logo
en
English Español Français Italiano
She Writes

She Writes

with aching, dull shard

it is a numbing
a piercing of the proverbial heart
with aching, dull shard
a cold depth swallowing
lungs contract, fluid-filled
an echo of the day
darker than any night’s call
 
 
he walks in moon glow
singer of words
child of earth
 
my soul is an empty swan that soars

Other works by She Writes...
Simply a blank page

it was a blank page. Her hardened gaze caused no words to appear. No flourishing language to embellish the explanation.No distractions to explain the lack of written monologue. Not even...
waning never was

the taste of purple inundation eatery fingers flowing in scratching clutch we hold
 1
Stalemate

starlight sings silver catalyst for dreams the woosh of the window unit roars with smokey tang on my lips, I shi… shoulder to door pane, perceptions…
I count them, and remember

I list their names on my heart Count them... ad nauseum, infinity… They, who sew my shroud. I list their names on my heart They, who released it
 1
In shards, I seep

yes... a million times over, I sai… to him, to them to everyone, to no one I gave pieces of me Perhaps
we

for the beauty of the day we wept huddled mass one, singular in thought we
mirror, mine

his exit, his entrance stars in solemn shades countdown in pink orbs we, burning out suns commencing solitude
The skin around their eyes, a canyon

She saw them fishing poles in hand, walking fro… Fingers, gnarled, crippled with the passing of age. The skin around their eyes, a cany…
The F Word

fallible fallen features flawless foes feel, feel, feel formulated
The stories end

all the poetry inside, the curtain… dropping dusty upon the frailty of my words the world, too old my thoughts, too young, too same
I dream the taste of purple

eyes awaken, asleep. I dream the taste of purple I dream the touch of you. I dream of tall grass fields on my… shuddering in magnificent breath.
 1
Rise

He speaks with a purpose that dema… with soft, soliloquy of word to sh… the emulsification, the blood of b… and women carrying the weight of m… Storyteller. Anthropologist.
 1
mine

there is neither peace nor dream in a day. truth spattered, canvas inundated. bubbles fluid, liquid no longer...
divine embrace

She walked the raised concrete streets, built from the backs of someone whom she didn’t know. She walked the raised concrete streets, surrounded by creatures of origin. The rain cascade...
Always the cliche

and in that tear, everything broke every shard of pain, every loss the losses yet to come her voice, her heart caught



Top