Nostalgia
By Jessiibear
The past, collected.
- 327 reads
This Song
My youth in ribbons Coloured and clean, You pull, in fragments, From a box. The bits, in torment, Myriad, unseen: Textured, in layers Felt, on flesh...
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- 196 reads
Road
What is it about the road, I wonder That catches little eyes? Gravel grainy, blacktop tough, no matter-- Which comes as no surprise. And there's no...
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- 755 reads
Our Last Talk
Between us, silence is a game of charades played on changing leaves.
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- 435 reads