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Literature Text
Autumn red
Starry night
Time for bed
Twinkling light
Windy sky
Chilly days
Leaves to pile
Jump and play
Yellow moon
Sweater days
Start anew
Warm lattés
Late night walks
Children hush
Heartfelt talks
By the bush
Orange lights
Pumpkin pie
Say goodbye
Say goodnight
Starry night
Time for bed
Twinkling light
Windy sky
Chilly days
Leaves to pile
Jump and play
Yellow moon
Sweater days
Start anew
Warm lattés
Late night walks
Children hush
Heartfelt talks
By the bush
Orange lights
Pumpkin pie
Say goodbye
Say goodnight
Literature
This Heat
This heat is not a temperature
It is a weight, a drag on ones bones.
It settles around ones shoulders, limply hanging.
It is a slope towards shadows and places of rest,
A climb up level open cliffs called parking lots.
One steps inside, and over the course of long minutes
It uncoils and falls away in thick salty layers.
To go back and take them up again is herculean.
Literature
quiet riots
i.
i crave permanence.
i've been aching for ink on my skin,
a promise of time and things to come,
so that i can say
i'm here, i exist, i am a constant
instead of fading in and out of focus.
ii.
i crave permanence.
i've been straining for consistency,
but falling into old melancholies,
thrums of insufficiency and fear-
fear that you'll tire of me.
because my insecurities will quickly turn
from endearing quirks to crippling flaws
and my childish, clumsy hands will lose their
youthful, giggly charm.
iii.
it's the eighteen year of war, and this raucous mind does not tire
instead, my soul does, and it's all i have left.
Literature
What Are You Doing Here?
Accept that the world is dying
Accept that you only exist for the benefit of others
Accept that you will never know happiness
Accept that you will always be alone
Accept that you will always want more
Accept that you will never deserve more
Accept that you will never be good enough
Accept that those you love will leave you
Accept
Accept
Accept
That you are an inconsequential speck of dust
In a vast and unending universe
And if you don't shape your own meaning
In your fragile finite life
Then what the fuck are you even doing here?
Suggested Collections
The leaves haven't changed colors yet, but it's starting to cool down where I live. Who else is excited to jump in leaf piles?? 
© 2015 - 2024 DoveDayDream3D
Comments9
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Somehow, these poems keep getting better and better.