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- wondering at allpoetry
I long to feel your breath - To Hell at allpoetry
A quiet desperation burns, rising up slowly - Adding on to the dysfunctional family at allpoetry
Remembering, quietly, those long, painful nights and - Bees first flight at allpoetry
My feet are planted, but somehow the trees - Walking Pace at allpoetry
I walked -- They reached out with - Mutinous fingertips at allpoetry
. - Telepathy at allpoetry
We, / who sit here idly, / glowering at the world from our / dark, dusty corner, / shouting insults when they / escape from our mouths, / We, complaining / every day / of the wrong-doings of the wo - Peace at allpoetry
With those glittering signs of
old - painted brightly with - snowy morning. at allpoetry
=/ - It's not love. at allpoetry
This, this is not love.
This is not that beautiful emotion
that makes everything glitter - Signorina at storywrite
- It Wasnt Yesterday at storywrite
Yesterday, I screamed until my throat was so dry I almost felt it bleed.
I had seen your face in every reflective surface - each blank screen, every window... even in my gla - Reason for a Smile at storywrite
\How can there be happiness when there is such hatred in the world?\
I. - ...goodbyes are at storywrite
"I missed you."
My words were always thousands of times clumsier then what was in my heart or even my mind. Inside, I had said something clever - something to make you smil - This is You, Too at storywrite
She lied to him every night, with silky words too beautiful to be real.
- Separation at storywrite
You looked at me sideways~ like you could read my soul on my skin...
- Sickness in Mold at storywrite
His eyes glimmered dangerously as he tilted his head closer, angling his chin away slightly.
- A Drabble at storywrite
The characters on the screen were covered in cloaks and armor and weaponry, but as usual, the viewer could only compare what they had to what she lacked.
- Rejection at storywrite
Final wisps of smoke drifted up from an ashtray, caged birds trying to flee.
Her feet were on the table, tap-tap-tapping and - Mirrors at storywrite
At night, ignoring the song is hardest. It's a hollow tune, you know. It's hollow and breaks in parts, letting an eerie silence take over for a moment, until it rises up again.
