Since you came into my life it changed
Do you know what you did to me?
Before this pain and this loss
Never knew what love was
Now I wish not to
I am empty
Alone now
I lost
Us
About the Creator
Savannah K. Wilson
She/Her | Australian 🏳️⚧️ Author
Queer and all class with a touch of sass! (or maybe the reverse!)
short stories, poetry, life experience
Reader insights
Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
Top insight
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
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More stories from Savannah K. Wilson and writers in Poets and other communities.
I'm just asking.
The brain before you is unhinged, altered from the alleged blueprints the doctors claimed were adequate in the nineties. Though maybe their chart was upside down, who knows? Imagine your 'You' has a permanent view that loses touch like it's raining hats heroes that Warded you. You won't. protection rejection, right? Thought too worthless to your mind to not just get agitated and ghost the very concept. I'd say you can't, but that spite against, I don't know, luck, is making these rules, you know the ones. Feel like a trap to remove our humanity. You want good things, thoughts, my thinking is to keep the bats from joining the cobwebs where the right brain shoves all the rationality. Day-bats, well, winged moves that I do to disguise as one of you. Which is worse: being uncomfortably accepted with poorly worded versions of your descriptions being the only way they reference you, or admit that the silence inside never started, and during conversations like these, you depart entirely? Admit the seclusion is required, admit that 'vibes' are hormone-powered signals shared between guessers overstepping boundaries in sync.
By Willem Indigoa day ago in Poets
Pandora’s Burden
“My brother warned me to not accept gifts from the one who commissioned you,” said Epimetheus to the woman clad in silvery raiments standing at the entrance to the temple. Her silver tiara and the silver rings on her fingers and toes glinted in the firelight cast by torches set on either side of the doorway. Lingering in the shadows, beyond the reach of the flames as she was, he could not tell what she held in her hands. At first what appeared to be a box was perhaps a funerary urn, or maybe merely an apple.
By J. Otis Haas6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (5)
So devastating 😭😭
Felt it , 😪 love is eternal, love is life,
Many people feel it's better to have loved and lost rather than never having loved at all. But I beg to differ. I really wish I never knew what love was. Loved your Nonet!
Gosh 💔
A heartfelt nonet!!!