#free verse

[chrystal-is-clear]

ᏇᏂᎧ ᏗᏒᏋ ᎩᎧᏬ?

I don't know you

Not anymore

Who were you?

Why have you come

to this shore?

I don't understand you

Not like before

You seem so complicated

But I want

to learn you more.

I don't love you

like I used to do

You are just like an illusion,

that I want

to pursue.

I don't fall for you

Not anymore,

Reflection is a mirage

And I don't want

to adore.

[lumieresol]

silence of the night

cw: sh and sa implications, maso tendencies, mental illness

sometimes in the silence of the night,

i would take off my safety pin necklace

slices of my skin

tearing off and pooling with crimson

just for you

then we would meet again

in the silence of the night

bated breaths on heated flesh

scars adorning the two of us

a piece of me

for a piece of you

but meat gets tougher with every slice

you chew me, your tongue swirling me around

then you spit me out, a look i cannot forget

rotting in the silence of the night

forever to be discarded

the silence of the night

will muffle my whines

as i cut myself

over and over

with my safety pin necklace

all for you.

[postpluvia]

fix

god please

just once

i want to wake up

and be pretty

i don’t even care

if it only lasts a day

i’m so tired

of trying on my own

i stand in front of the mirror

pulling at everything

my face

my hair

my skin

like there’s still

something left to fix.

i keep thinking

if i were pretty

someone would’ve loved me by now.

someone would’ve stayed.

but i know that’s not

how it works.

it doesn’t stop me

from wishing

it was though!

i would like that

a lot i think.

[postpluvia]

swallow

i want to tell you everything

i want to say it all right now

instead i study my shoes

i count the eyelets

i trace the worn-out canvas like it’s a most urgent task

staring down is safe.

the room doesn’t spin down here

because i know how i get

the second i look up and let it spill

i’m completely exposed

the air between us turns heavy

so i keep my eyes glued to the floor.

it hurts to swallow

but at least my feet

are still on the ground.

and at least

you're still standing

here in front of me

[heidigloom]

Ball game death song

[robinsversion]

Poetry from the archive: 18 June 2024

[domlarkin]

The Beautiful Agony

The sugar cane sways in suffocating, humid heat. Beauty and shadows seamlessly meet above the white estate. It gleams so bright, but a terrible, icy darkness rules the night.

Behind the stiff, frozen porcelain smile, lies a lingering pain. It has walked for a mile. His words are thrown like punches in the dark, leaving no warm blood, but a permanent, jagged, raised mark.

The mansion stands like a chalk-white ghost. A sharp, pristine cage. A hollow host. Beneath the heavy velvet, sticky venom creeps, while justice fails and the sweat-soaked night-sky weeps.

His sharp tongue lashes—a leather whip. Slicing the peace. A sneering, dry lip. Each syllable strikes with a heavy, bruising thud, a crushing of spirit, a cold spilling of wet mud.

The orchids bloom. They bleed red, feeding on raw secrets the living dread. For every petal that greets the sun, a coarse, hidden thread of life is slowly undone.

The drums beat low in hidden brush, vibrating through the soles of her feet. Breaking the valley's deceptive hush, she walks in silence. A numb, waking sleep. The waters of sorrow are rough, and impossibly deep.

A cold, beautiful shell with an empty stare, bruised by the silence, trapped right there. A fragile doll in a rough, gilded room, exchanging her warm youth for a handsome, stone-quiet doom.

[disscog]

Interrupted - a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo by Oxana Kazey on Unsplash InterruptedI didn’t really see heror take particular notice in the low light butwhen I went to the bar to order drinksshe had gone,her glass still waiting to be cleared away,I noticed the redlipstick on the lipand I wondered what her lips looked likefelt liketasted …. Copyright 2026 ©️Paul Vincent CannonAll Rights Reserved ®️

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