Three poems to make up for the days I was supposed to be posting (so please swipe to the right to see them all). Side note: I've never liked titles. I've never liked putting them at the beginning. So now, I'm trying to put them at the end, as some other poets have done (i.e., Nayyirah Waheed, whose work I read for the first time recently and fell in love with). #poetsofinstagram#poetry#micropoems#30daywritingchallenge#samanticswrites
Her technicolor world fades as the sparkle in her eyes dies. When she talks, she sounds like a muffled slow song. 🥀 . An attempt to capture depression. 👆🏻Maybe someone out there can relate?? *sending out virtual hugs* ✨ . . 📸: @augustprawira thank you Gust! 😁
You say there isn't enough Not enough feeling Not enough emotion The muscle I've ripped out of my chest Creating a bloody mess on the floor One I'll have to mop up tomorrow morning
But there it is still alive.
It's been scarred and whipped by cynicism. Life chewed it up and spit it out and tried to beat it into a shape the world calls a heart It's nothing like the truth Nothing like the gritty mess of blood and fibre that bound itself back together. And you say that isn't enough? Well I'm sorry. I'm sorry for you. -Skye
I couldn't find my words within you anymore, Your hands are cold and so does my heart. Perhaps the time already told us, But we're just too busy to listen, That our time has come, to end everything that we had built, Before we killed each other in sadness.