L. V., i found this poem as it wrinkled and went black, plopping to the ground at my feet
L. V., i found this poem falling like lightning from heaven
L. V., i found this poem suffocating in your ashtray
L. V., i'll hand it to you / you don't need to steal anything here
You talked about your old poem titled Literary Vein. Can you direct me to the post? I can't find it anywhere on your page. Thank you!!
I don't think I've posted it before. Maybe snippets of it. But here it is:
Literary Vein
I reread my favourite book today. The plot was the same. The characters, unchanged.
They’re the same age, wearing the same clothes I’d left them in years ago.
The words were unaltered; the pages still smell like Sundays alone at home.
The only thing that changed was the emotions. When I reached the climax,
I did not feel the same rushing excitement I once felt, finding out who the murderer was.
On the contrary you still make me feel
like I could tell you anything even after all these years.
Perhaps in that sense, one could say you are my favourite book.
what's the new side blog ?
sideblogs* actually
okay but give me a good reason to unleash those awful edits (again) for even one person to see
L. V., i found this poem unmoving inside the green apple you left in my fridge
L. V., a broken haiku
L. V., meet me at the epilogue
Poetry. Prose. Free Verse. May explore dark/sensitive themes.
210 posts