Poetry

Poetry

My heart is a gilded oligarch

My heart is an oligarch: A staunch, pot-bellied, knuckle-cracking middle-aged man lounging carelessly, lazily  in his sitting room with his limbs spread out on a settee

1w ago

Poetry / Unfaithful month

I spent the last night with your lover 

1w ago

POETRY / All that I shouldn’t have known

What I wish I didn’t know is that when your dear friends whisper the word “psycho” behind your back, you’ll grow up accepting it.

5m ago

POETRY / Omniscient

Skin sticky with perspiration from a long month of June 

5m ago

Poetry / Tongue

I heard myself speak today It made me want to Cut out my tongue.

9m ago

POETRY / I, Whore; I, Birangona

Would it be too much to ask you/ To forgive me for the carnal sin I did not commit?

11m ago