Discover Top Posts Tagged with #poets circle

“So we’re in your car and

you’ve got your hand tight around my throat,

and you say good girl,

and you say next time.

I melt to a puddle with your fingers in my mouth. This is the first time I’ve touched comfortable violence in over a year.

It’s just spoon fed lies and all this hurt swept under the rug.

It’s just you and me and our walls and your tattooed heart hell bent on misunderstanding me;

The same cycle we ride into the ground like tradition, two stubborn mouths refusing to speak and then crashing into eachother before parting ways again. I think to myself: this time is the last time as I walk home and brush the taste of you off the back of my teeth.

This was never going to work, but by god if we didn’t try anyway.”

-DEAD THINGS by Morgan Soto

Dare to dream.

Even when they take

Everything.

Dare to dream.

When they tell you

It's silly.

Dare to dream.

Don't let them hold you back.

You are more than what you seem.

Dare to dream

And you can make it

Your new reality.

how many more parents have to receive phone calls saying that their child was gunned down in a high school hallway? how many more parents have to be told that their baby’s life has ended before it has even had the chance to begin? how many more mothers have to tell little siblings that their hero, their role model isn’t coming home? how many more fathers have to go to bed feeling like they couldn’t protect their pride and joy? how many more teachers have to hide students in closets, while praying to make it home from work safely? how many more massacres have to happen before something changes? because so far all the world has to offer these parents & these children who lost their lives is a moment of silence, followed by thoughts & prayers, because it never seems to hit close enough to home, even as it’s practically happening in your own backyard.

“how many more?” k.m.k

There was Galileo and the moons of Jupiter, and Copernicus and the sun, and then there's me and you. I looked at you like you were one of Saturn's rings or one of those angels dancing in the meteor showers, or that super blue blood moon. But I was no astronomer and you shouldn't have been my galaxy, and now, watching you leave was like looking at the Milky Way and seeing the stars disappear cluster by cluster, until all that's left was darkness, and it was dark, and dark, and dark, and empty, and cold.

And I was alone.

Now, I guess I must put down my telescope and get some sleep.

My eyes are red anyway.

— Fray Narte, "astolatry"

If there is anything that needs to be said is wave after wave currents murmur in uproar and my heart is the full moon in the night over the vast waters that sometimes painfully drowns and sometimes cleanses and harbors life. And, if there is anything that needs to be done is to hurriedly trace all the edges to find a grip tide after tide. Firmly to keep it all together aided by a recollection of once upon when we dived too deep and forgot how to swim up. It was I who sat on the wayside and it was I who steered through lost waters and in between it was I searching to find something that was never meant to be found but to be felt and it is I that stands in the mirror but alien to me.