I have spent my life
Here but not present, except
When the light hits me
Poet & Storyteller āØ
Her heart was made of liquid sunsets š - Virginia Woolf
How does it work?
Awesome ⨠šš
Beautiful and relatable! š«š
More stories from Joelle E N and writers in Poets and other communities.
Gold glue fills the cracks Between who I used to be And who I am now
By Joelle E N3 years ago in Poets
Iām out and about Strutting through the daffodils Flicking back my hair Doing my thing I feel your stares I hear your whispers
By Mother Combs5 days ago in Poets
It's as though I am a Well full of love and those who come to fetch my water don't always sit on my edge Sometimes they leave and then come back for more
By Raena Skyy3 days ago in Poets
The short form of tomorrow is never the whole story. Abbreviations mean nothing when we are born to die and we all are aren't we? Being spoken for before birth is something we're not supposed to remember like some kind of karma after effect. Still here we are spending our lives looking for each other.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Awesome ⨠šš
Beautiful and relatable! š«š