astronomy•poetry
these poems are for the lonely, forgotten, the lost poets at three am, and everyone else in between cover credit: -sidjenkins
these poems are for the lonely, forgotten, the lost poets at three am, and everyone else in between cover credit: -sidjenkins
"Will you ever hear me in the rain?" "...?" ***** #157 in Poetry February 12, 2016 #86 in Poetry February 14, 2016
when you still have this tiny, tiny bit of hope inside of you that they will learn how to love you again, even if there's this bigger part that knows: they never will. © sushitae- 「 highest ranking: #19 in poetry 」
You're stuck in my head like lullabies, singing me to sleep. Calming down my fears.
Call it prose. Call it poetry. Call it hastily written words. Whatever you call it...enjoy it. Be saddened by it. Learn from it. Embrace it. Bask in it. These are words written by one woman for all women. You're beautiful. Smile. There is someone out there who thinks you are utterly amazing. Disclaimer: This pictur...
I learned that writing the bad thoughts down helped me pick myself back up. poetry from a couple years ago, a younger soul.
A compilation of short poems and quotes written by yours truly. Highest: #1 in poetry All Rights Reserved © John Schorwinson 2017 Marvellous cover made by @soundthealarm
persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it. © sushitae- 「 highest ranking: #20 in poetry 」
❝i've delicately chosen letters to form words and words to form sentences, each sentence a colorful paint stroke on the canvas of my mind.❞ [ #1 in poetry on 27/08/16 ]
it's 12 am and i'm wide awake --- just a short disclaimer from the author in 2021, please do note that this was written by a 15 year old.
lo·cu·tion ləˈkyo͞oSH(ə)n/ (n.) " a particular form of expression;" 《 a collection of poems and prose. 》 highest rank - #7 in Poetry ♡ #3 in Prose ♡
A book of poems and letters to someone who may or may not read them Copyrights to Readingwithunicorns *completed
When I met him on a rainy afternoon the air smelt like gardenias. My black oxford pumps were soaked from accidentally stepping on a puddle, and the tiny yellow umbrella I held up barely saved me from the chilly rain. When I met him on a rainy afternoon, the sky was pink and blue. I was starving and almost craving t...
❝my darling angel, how you've grown❞ the teasings of an infatuated nymphet upon a man, too many years her elder
a collection of works I write at 2 am MOST IMPRESSIVE RANKING: #1 in POETRY love y'all thanks for the support