Tag: original poems
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When the wind is breathless, the raindrops loud, and the trees swing from side to side; midnight The tender whisper of a loved one’s voice over a scary story at bedtime; midnight Through white curtains peek a speck of light, may be from a star, may be the tired street lamps; midnight A kiss feels…
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How is a story born? A story is born… When we do things we shouldn’t do. When you look at me the way you do. When he pays hush money for his sin. When the doctor calls about your skin. When you fall for me before her eyes. When despite the lies you have butterflies.…
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“Are you grieving?” “No,” I quizzically said. “You only talk about sad things.” How to tell her that I’m a requiem; an airless breath, a heartless ribcage, a misunderstood sonnet. I want to tell her about the times I’ve stared blank at the silver clouds up in the sky, never hearing a reply. So unable…