Curled petals in sync
I gave you a piece of blue
It sprouts from your hands
How does it work?
More stories from K L and writers in Poets and other communities.
Mountains use mirrors They push back soil like hair strands Rocks are their sole comb
By K L3 years ago in Poets
“I’m not here to be average. I am here to be awesome.” Every single one of us is unique and special. We live in a society
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff3 days ago in Poets
Familiar hum Flash of green emerald blue Vanished miracle . .
By PK Colleran5 days ago in Poets
If we are not in tune with our bodies, if trauma or dissociation distorts our natural rhythms, we are unable to feel a sense of agency over our lives.
By Kera Hollow3 days ago in Psyche
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