to be savored...

for those who revel in ache

[liyaklynn]

ah, wonderful! you made it.

liya | 24 | writer / poet

lover of fruit metaphors, music, & the erotic in the mundane. i write poems (and things that aren’t sure they’re poems). themes: desire, silence, girlhood, power, shame, the fucking weather, worship, rot, devotion vibes: cracked altar tiles, lipstick on bruises, mythic retellings, grunge nostalgia

📍canada | neurodivergent | mixed

read my stuff if you like to bite fruit and feel feelings

[liyaklynn]

in her image

she chuckled

beauty is pain

she rakes the brush

through my coiled hair

confident i won't flinch

as she clamps the iron on the root

i've got to frame my face

she smiled

you may never

it’s okay some girls

just don’t develop that way

you have such a beautiful face

especially when you smile

don’t be sad little bird

she pinched

at my sides

assuring me

the softness runs in our family

i twirl in my dress

and for a moment

she forgets i’m not her

she sighed

noticing the marks

that kiss my neck

not angry—

just curious

 if i gave him the cow

or just poured the milk

i sigh

seeing the wince

crease her face

as she dares to

challenge the mirror

my heart breaks knowing

the weight of such a gaze

i pinch

at my sides

and wonder

am i still in there

enlisting numbers

on a scale

for vengeance

i smile

she could never

as i admire features

gifted from my father

i’ve strained my back

to glow from within

a skin tone she’d burn for

i chuckle

beauty is pain

as i snip away

heat damaged hair

adoring the way

such a dandy little cut

brings out my cheekbones

[becherdireinen]

trust that everything will fall into place without you forcing it there.

[lonelyfrenchpoet]

Selfish

It may sound selfish

But I want to be your last everything

By Val (04.04.25)

[fallencalliope]

Let's dim the lights down low,

Allowing the warm flicker of the fire,

Glisten upon our nakedness,

As you slowly let my dress fall,

Feeling the soft material caress my legs,

Carefully placing your lips on my skin,

Escalating my desire for you,

Becoming deaf to the sound of the beating of my heart,

Letting you take your time,

Getting lost in your eyes,

As you attentively show me,

The kind of love that only lived inside of my dreams,

Caring for each imperfection presented on my body,

Making me feel alive inside once again...

©️fallencalliope

[noxfatalis-deactivated20250907]

strawberry moon 2025

[askyea-poesy]

I am supposed to be touched. I can't wait to find the person who will come into the kitchen just to smell my neck and get behind me and hug me and breathe me in and make me turn around and make me kiss his face and put my hands in his hair even with my soapy dishwater drips. I am a lovely woman. Who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me?

Jenny Slate

[sugarsweetsadness-poetry]

Loving a Siren

An original poem by Sugar Sweet Sadness

I am a siren I lure people in with my words and ways But it's all an illusion All those who flock to me just get caught in the idea Obsessed with my facade All that love is fake No one can love a lie

But people will always try to

[die-rosastrasse]

Sunset in grandma's garden 🌸

23 V 2025

[liyaklynn]

a virtue

i need to see it patient and so deserving gluttonous—greedy and so very full held back—frustrated more than able to take what’s been earned what a sight so ripe and so easily ruined you look so pretty from down there oh, to make such a force crawl

-Liya K. Lynn

-

[faemaril-deactivated20260517]

x A T R O P H Y x

All once vibrant fades away

Thy effort to make it stay is in vain and,

Remains of dusk and blight,

Overcome wisdom's sight.

Pulse slows where emotions used to be

Hope grows dim, blowing into the candle of need

Yesterday's flame, now a silent plea...

Fae ©

[ghostinkpoetry]

"Cigarette in Rain"

Morning walks feel more like drifting, the world a blurred echo of a life I never asked for. Each step to school is less a journey, more a surrender.

Thoughts hang like stormclouds in my throat — the ones that whisper about ending things before they ever begin.

Then I see it — a cigarette in a pool of rainwater, still whole, unlit, untouched, yet already drowned.

It doesn’t move. Just lies there, perfect in its defeat, clean in a way that feels impossible — like something once meant for fire now softened by the weight of everything it didn’t become.

And somehow, I see myself in it. Not smoking, not burnt out, just there — soaked in silence, floating in a world too heavy to carry.

No wind. No ripple. Just me and that cigarette, both waiting for something to change.

@ghostinkpoetry

[spitblossoms]

[thepersonalquotes]

“my Iove” is so cute like yes say it again

[liyaklynn]

Filth

what a filthy thing to say— yet it sounded so kind. a gentle offer, whispered from such soft lips. the impact of something so small, so tender— like the skin of a plum, too ripe. split it open. fucking break it. greedy fingers dig for what’s theirs. beads of sweat, marks on skin, a debt paid in full.

-Liya K. Lynn

-

[liyaklynn]

Is it just me, or is Mother Earth kind of sexy when she's mad...

-

[bebs-art-gallery]

The Song of the Swan by edperkinsartist