The Cell (Remove filter)
Chlorine
Blankets Turn To Sand, You’re In A White Dress.
So Pale, Your Beauty’s Like The Dead.
But Is The Water Always Red?
Chlorine And Rust In My Lungs
Like A Metal Egypt To Be Shunned.
Glancing Off Of The Ceiling, We Listen To Her Cry
When She’s Disappeared Again Into All Her Dreams.
And All We Do Is Tune In While You’ve Become Part Of The Meek.
The Dolls And Lights Underwater.
Dolls And Ligh...
Sunday 19th May 2019 5:10 am
Recent Comments
Marla Joy on The Poets are Lying.
8 hours ago
Marla Joy on Coincidence?
8 hours ago
Marla Joy on Your budding awareness
8 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Christmas Rocks 🎅 🎄☃️
9 hours ago
Hugh on Do not stand at my grave and wee
11 hours ago
Auracle on Thank you for all your poetry throughout 2024! Take a look at our Insta advent calendar - you're very welcome to join in!
17 hours ago
Auracle on If.........
18 hours ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on I Pray For All My Friends Around The World
19 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Thank you for all your poetry throughout 2024! Take a look at our Insta advent calendar - you're very welcome to join in!
21 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Pursue Transparency
21 hours ago