Lit Poetry

I knew you through crumpled bed sheets With tired eyes and morning views Crawling under blankets and intense teenage blues It was fast and rough and passionate...

so this is how life passes at fifteen: we wake up to the violent moon, breaking window panes and shredding plastic blinds. our bodies are sandbags holding back...

The ugly scarab beetle walked the sand; Step after step did he drudge through the heat. The sun and moon waned; a long time had spann’d— The...

Our arms Full of gentle pinks, whites, and purples. Our feet stretching far, Far beneath the soil in which others stand. We stand, Still, Among the developing bulbs and whimpering worms. Our...

They carry your scent like they were made to never forget you. I miss the way they slipped against my legs, as I intertwined them with yours. Under my...

I consider turning down every street except the one the open mic is actually on. The most inviting streets are cul de sacs (easy to turn around...

maybe in some way i am historic too i heard them call the ruins "beautiful" the old and run down "majestic" i do not see the reason why i should't say the same when i look...

You spend all day lining them up for slaughter, one by one onto the conveyor before bullet is silenced by brain, knife slithers over throat, hung to bleed for eight...

The day after your death, the sun still surprisingly came up and shone down onto the cold and blue horizon. There were no loud...

When things get bad, we run towards the airport in our dreams but wake up before we catch our flights. When things get bad, I...