The shape of the moon smells brownLike standing barefoot on a leather carpet. Cause that makes scents. And that, makes cents.
Waking up is a stateAs you speak,I hear a gentle song, You are a place where I belong. A word, a breath, so soft, I feel, I reach for you—you're truly here. Your touch, a whisper on my skin, It pulls me close, I let you in. Your eyes, like stars, they catch my gaze, A... See More »
My stomach is sickMy stomach is sick I think I ate something bad At first it was sweet on my tongue Then it became a sour acid It's burning me Destroying me from the inside It reaches depths of my brain And the pit of my stomach I let in something bad I am afraid it... See More »
Poem based on Strangers by Ethel CainEat me, please, love, want me I am all yours Thats all I want to be I am for you to use Find your heaven Between my frostbitten legs In my flesh In my blood and bone Take me apart To build your happiness
rhyming poemI AM A RHYME OF YOUR LINE I am a line that needs rhyme to be sweet and wants to be deep. I wonder to seek a beat to speak, Make you sweet and not sleep. I want to give you a nice treat Serving you greet with meek. I worry about being sleet— d... See More »
