I Float Above The Debris

you can pry starting sentences with 'and' or 'but' out of my cold, dead hands

and maybe one day i will wield the scythe

my poetry can resurrect demons

from the past, so let me swing

another sharp weapon and

name it poetry.

~K.T.

Is it still manslaughter if you only manage to giggle during it?

I'm going to asphyxiate xdddd

An authentic experience of me, reading the Silmarillion for the first time, trying to imagine what Melkor looks like:

Me: If the Ainur can choose how their fanar appear, then I bet he'd go for something physically intimidating... Tall, then. Most likely wierdly white-gray pale, too...

Me: Long, dark hair... Dressed in black robes, ooh! What if they pool at his feet when he stands, so it's kind of like he's emerging from a puddle of darkness... and... hmm.

Me: Why does this sound... familiar? W-who does it remind me of...?

Me: ...wait.

I am so sorry.

I want to cry

for all my lives

I've missed to dive

beneath my

kisses not tried

moments unsmiled

tonight

always shut doors and open windows, why the chill breeze  on my back - i can’t bear all this fresh opportunity streaming blue, screaming who are you to refuse a calling? consider this a push into further than can be seen, for cold feet and hot hands  busy with potential, view so wide it can’t be contained by panes split straight and squared, lines drawn and crossed, your leaving a threshold like a question still standing and abandoned, another empty frame

Poems are just word structures, sometimes devoid of poetry. Poetry goes far beyond words. Images are words too... Poetry is how we use these images.

Thoughts like koi flop from

a stranger's wishing well mouth,

toxic with copper.

L. V., i found this poem when you let me walk around your mind

It ruins the flavour

her coffee was cold and so she placed it in the microwave to my bewilderment

otherwise, I'm of the belief that she's heaven sent.