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Ineffable Soul Mar 2018
Trouble
Uncovering honest words to write
Buried
Deep down inside
Far from reach far from sight
Wick Mar 2018
scribble
littered
notebook

spilt ink
wasted
papers

some poems
never
written

some poems
never
spoken

thoughts
caged in
the mind

words that
never
sufficed.
a graveyard for thoughts and creativity.
Kaitlyn Amborn Mar 2018
It's something about the way yellow looks in the rain
The way that color makes me take the long way home
Something else about those days I can't remember -
Did I know I was going to forget them when I walked by?
And there was something too - about that fish I had that lived too long
And how I knew it was gone - where did it go?
There's something there -
I think I heard it in the frog song inside those warm summer nights
From under Orion's belt when I counted myself to you
Where do my somethings go when they are gone?
Are they resting in those smiles I never learned to crawl out of?
It's something about one moment to the next
And how they collect like pennies in a jar
Something about that yellow and the long way home
K Paige Mar 2018
the photographer has a golden hour and i am envious of them

the golden hour is the period of time directly after sunrise
or before sunset

it is here where light kisses dark

it is here that these artists thrive

and come alive

it is here where they capture a magical transition

synchronized
soft
inevitable

the writer may spend months in a stupor
searching for their next golden hour

how dizzying it is to realize that what we see is believed to be
more real than what we feel

when will the sun rise in my mind again?

-k.p.-
I don't have writer's block,
I just don't write.

If there was ever a block,
It's my blockhead.

So, why am I writing this?
I don't know.
Maybe there is a hole in my block.

Does this mean I can write again?
Maybe something that feels right?
I don't know.

Is there even anything that I know?
I don't know.
Maybe it's that I have writer's block.
your glacier
like screams
are the
stone
be
neath
our stream
?


















...
..
.
we adore
...
..
.
hey hey hey
mister
can
we
kiss
your wife
she saved my life

oh oh oh
we love her
sew

oh
she
sees sees sees
pathches
on
my
jeans
she lets me
watch her
make her
scream
she is
mine
her
scream scream scream

it belongs to me
she lets me
braid
her
hair
cause your not there

we hold her really close
she is my
love
of
over-dose

every time we breath her in
our love makes tornados spin
she
loves loves loves me

she lets me
dance
in
her
brah

she saws my *******
with
an
saw

she found pain in my love
my finger in her
pink love
love
love
love me


hey mister
could you sing
this
song
for
star BG
?






















...
..
.
hurry
...
..
.
ok
wanna play
here is
an
*****

my nuts are to big for you



are you gonna be
ok
?

























...
..
.
taking another walk
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