Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
“Love is selfish
And unkind.
Love is trying
And it blinds.
Love is giving
And leaving after.
Love is broken
And looking tougher.
Love is living,
And its dying.
Love is love.
Nothing compares.
It’s fragile, cradled,
And disaster.”

A.V.
I was once curiously asked:
"Why write poetry?
Does it pay the bills?"

I replied with a smile:
"It does far more than that -
it heals."
 May 13 Khadi Alza
Liana
It feels great to be unique
It feels beautiful to be special
But being one of a kind
Is so lonely

Can there please be at least one other person in this universe
That's like me?
Can we be two of a kind together?
Just one...
Please

I've had enough of this
I just need ONE other person
I hate this compliment
132
I lost one follower,

I apologize.

I'm glad my art could please them,

For a little while.
Patterns are common,
Some are better at seeing,
Them when they appear.
Life is often a game of connect the dots
On the small balcony,
they sit blanket wrapped,
just past midnight.

Earth smells of rain,
cloud dazzling secrets.

As he leans in,
not for a kiss,
but to give a piece
of his past
to her soul.
:)
I know loss,
Believe me,
I know lows.

While my life now glitters in gold,
I will never forget it's old rusty reds,
Believe me, I know the blows.
Next page