we have constellations in our souls.
faded impulse control - crackle static,
a lightning bug, starlight thieves,
no reckless calling, splash ecstatic.
we've made a secret wing infinity -
one that ended way too soon,
a sea glass cut, a razor burn,
two sleepy eyes being rubbed at noon.
a second later it would be all gone.
poison ivy growing in a wailing sun,
with racing hearts, and locked eyes -
we've just begun to run.
●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●
The Exquisite Poet's Note
I promised to be here on the 9th of July, and I couldn't be here. I had planned big things, but see, the thing is, even though it may not seem like it, I'm trying. I'm trying to write and I'm trying to score in class and I'm trying to try to be something more, anything more, but it's hard.
I know you'll understand. On another note, though, even though I'm not exactly very successful in class nowadays, I'm having a very good life. The soft kind. I hope you're doing well too.
I know I haven't replied to many, many messages and a hundred comments, but I've read each and every one of them. And I'm very, very grateful for these messages because you really make my day, no matter what. Keep sending them. :)
And I've noticed that some of you have been adding my book to thefictionawards ! You're the sincere best, I swear to god. Thank you so much.
I haven't mentioned this before, but Prismatic Memories made it to the What's Hot List (on top of being Featured!!!) about a month ago! How cool, right?
Aaaand I've added PM to TheWattys ! All we've got to do is wait, now. If you have the time + resources, you could vote for my book/ promote it on Twitter!
I want to win, I don't know if I will, but nevertheless I've already been blessed with amazing readers, so thank you.
Also, I hit 500 followers {half a K!} the other day! I honestly don't know how this happens, I'm literally never online and it's been a while since I've posted poems, so I'm super glad. (:
Anyway, have a great life with the most amazing vibes!
Carpe the hell out of Diem (and Noctem.)
YOU ARE READING
Prismatic Memories
Poetry"i. they tell me they cannot comprehend art. where art is, whispers reside. ii. i tell them that the only art i need are the words that bleed onto paper. iii. they tell me it doesn't work that way. there are compromises for art. sports. scie...
