Drifting through the stones
Alone I’m here, none remains;
Mine do, under weeds.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Simon Curtis and writers in Poets and other communities.
I just want to disappear This is not how the end was supposed to be I want to be gone Gone into the Everlasting Gone into that warm inviting light
By Simon Curtis7 months ago in Poets
patience pushing through provocation and pain with poise passively plastered on unperturbed faces papering over the cracks formed
By ali8 days ago in Poets
Under the peeling, floral wallpaper, a wretched rumor of rot begins to rewrite the resonance in the room. Brown cigarette stains leak,
By Lolly Vieira4 days ago in Poets
In the Everyone Is Acting Normally challenge, something is clearly wrong, but no one stops to name it. Across the shortlist, that wrongness appears as resurrections, surveillance, disappearance, and denial, each treated as part of daily life.
By Vocal Curation Teamabout an hour ago in Resources
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.