Poems from ajs1993
The flowers are whispering
again
and when I go to crumble their
petals
in my bruised fist
they laugh at me
and assemble back
together
and I...
I knew a boy who liked to paint,
each piece a tessselation,
a labyrinth
of color and jagged edges.
Some so loud
I cowered, hands over ears...
I don't know much about NAPOLEON
other than his
bright blue
buttons
and how he ate
leaves
in Russia
hoping to understand
the way that...
You'll sit on a friend's chair,
hands fumbling in your lap
as bright red tresses float down
Like leaves in autumn.
When you look in the...
Look,
there’s a reason they call us
“survivors” and “warriors.”
We wake up in the middle of the night,
eyes staring into the glow-in-the-...