Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The last time I wrote you a love letter
you disappeared
and left me in utter darkness.
Now here you are lighting up my sky again.
Sometimes you feel so sure
and full of yourself.
At others you seem empty and new.
I am trying to better appreciate you
in your becoming
to wax poetic even when we are apart.
Even in your absence I am learning
to be present
to take my time
to still shine.
But I wonder
I wonder how many lovers you have.
I know I am not your only.
The world is a wetter place because of you.
Oceans lap at your face.
When you blink my tides change.
Your control is out-of-this-world.
And I just wanna be near you
somewhere in your orbit.
Close enough to see you
flaws and all.
You wear your depressions so well.
It’s like they never stop you from being whole.
I mean here you go rising to the occasion yet again.
And I can’t help but be struck in awe
of your aura.
So here is another love letter
(for your collection).
And before you disappear
  because I can already sense your waning
I want you to know that you are the balance to my days.


Luna, I love you
another love letter to the moon
when abolish the police gets a platform at the open mic…

a suggestion turns into dialogue
                  into a debate
                                                 into shouts
                and chaos reforms into huddles

anarchy claims the analog   —   BLARING
              (all of this in mere seconds)

the notes are discord to the ear
                   but joy to the heart

the revolution will not be televised
but it will be projected
                    in the underbelly of some open mic
based on a real life experience
i smoked that ego down like a pack
it's still fuming
fumigating the room
clearing out space
coughing out lungs

can you see through the fog of your own *******

your hair is on fire
can you even smell yourself
     small talk and *******
will tomorrow remember tonight
        it's all for a story right?
  but can you connect the next line

her voicemail asks my favorite *** position
caller #9 ~ maybe we'll get lucky next time
life of the party
dying to be the story
  that no one can forget

ego is a roach
trampled by music
5:37am dream wake up
this poem is penned from that unconsciousness
  Feb 4 Taru Marcellus
Nemusa
My mind, ruminating,
thoughts eating themselves,
snaking longer, longer,
like that old Nokia phone,
remember?
The game we played—
winning meant losing space,
meant swallowing whole.

I can’t stop it.
No off switch.
No pause, no rewind.
Memory flickers, a broken reel,
an unreliable witness in my own courtroom.
Why did I disassociate?
To survive, to vanish?
Was I drunk on innocence,
or did I crave your love so much
I kept my mouth shut,
called my silence devotion?

You—
standing there in my shadow,
writing your story over mine,
turning my quiet into consent.
But I was always spinning,
always folding inward,
splintering.

Now I haunt the game,
chasing the tail of what I was,
swallowed by the loop,
still wondering
if I’ll ever find the center.
  Jan 30 Taru Marcellus
Nemusa
colors spill softly,

rainbow bridge greets the still sky,

light bends into peace.
we do not know what
                                          we reach for
       yet it awaits us                                        beyond
                                                          ­                                 the visible
                                   within the potential
energy existed before touch
       kinetic art
                            ever in motion

candlelight is an extension of wick
                                                            ­  and inspiration
an  ( e  x  p  a  n  d  i  n  g     a  u  r  a )
        breaching the frames of darkness
we are just as greedy
   our hands
      our mouths
         our minds
                they all run toward our outermost limits

heaven only knows
what escapes our clutches
                                                arms
   ­                                                       branches
 ­                                  fingers
reaching into the azure sky

                              1000 petal lotus floating
                                           in metta
12-minute writing prompt incorporating the words: branches, azure, frame, candlelight, petal, run
Next page