Story Time! – To Forget

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Hello 😊

As well as this blog for all things poetry, I also have a blog where I post all the stories I’ve written. If you’d like to take a look, head over to Telling Tales.

I’ll be posting a link a week to a story if you’re interested – I’ll warn in advance if it’s nsfw but please check the tags on the story before you read!

This week: To Forget

**this story is not safe for work**

 

 

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Story Time! – Disposable

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Hello 😊

As well as this blog for all things poetry, I also have a blog where I post all the stories I’ve written. If you’d like to take a look, head over to Telling Tales.

I’ll be posting a link a week to a story if you’re interested – I’ll warn in advance if it’s nsfw but please check the tags on the story before you read!

This week: Disposable

 

 

Story Time! – From The Road

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Hello 😊

As well as this blog for all things poetry, I also have a blog where I post all the stories I’ve written. If you’d like to take a look, head over to Telling Tales.

I’ll be posting a link a week to a story if you’re interested – I’ll warn in advance if it’s nsfw but please check the tags on the story before you read!

This week: From The Road

**this story is not safe for work**

 

 

Story Time! – Pale

Standard

Hello 😊

As well as this blog for all things poetry, I also have a blog where I post all the stories I’ve written. If you’d like to take a look, head over to Telling Tales.

I’ll be posting a link a week to a story if you’re interested – I’ll warn in advance if it’s nsfw but please check the tags on the story before you read!

This week: Pale

 

 

Your Words

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Your words are like balloons.
Filled with hot air, and bloated,
Then shrinking until they resemble elderly testicles.
Shrivelled. A little spit, a lot of empty.

Your words are like shells.
Beautiful, irridescent on the surface
Yet inside, there’s nothing. No keepsakes.
Anything of note slithered away long ago.

Your words are like abandoned buildings.
Once full of something, bursting with life,
And feeling. And existence. Purpose. Meaning.
Now, just silence. Trip hazards. Dilapidated and decrepit.

There aren’t enough metaphors
To detail the emptiness I feel
Now that your words are no more.
They say that time will heal.
So until then, I’ll steal
The quotes
Reminding me your words are nothing but wind,
And my memories, merely ghosts.

Your words are as empty
As this cavernous space growing between us.

Unspoken

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Awkward I may be but that not is the sum of me;
I’m made of many broken pieces and lots of falling aparts.
I speak to you with syntax I know you find to be jolting,
But I mean each word I say from the metaphorical heart.

There’s sonnets in my stutters and pentameter in my tone
To match the poetry in the lyrics of the music that you choose,
And whilst we’re worlds apart, in truth, we’re really not that different,
Scared of the same monsters in the dark and what we have to lose.

You are my anthology, both draft and published cover.
You speak to me with gestures, I don’t need to hear your tongue,
To know what it is you’re thinking, because I share what you’re feeling,
And one day we’ll talk it over with cold beer and setting sun.