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Posts tagged ‘Writing’

doves like tags

a shiver sprinkled itself against
my spine, as you pushed the tag
underneath my collar –

and now when i find
my tags tugging against my
hair, i remember all those little
things you cared about – i see
and feel them everywhere –

i tear them out, so i won’t be
reminded of those little things that
sneak up, make me ache for your love,
because now you are somewhere
above, tucking doves like tags into
passing clouds

inner collision

crumpled at day’s end.
i sit down to dinner –
bones stacking up into
a neat pile of sticks within
i could spin webs
around all of the
misfortunes sticking
out – thorns in the side of
my day, i could pin up
words people have said –
turn them, overanalyze them
every which way, to avoid
and assume, every breath or
action was carefully woven
by a loom to create the finished
product – constructed to
haunt my mind – with anxiety
calling shot gun, leaving
peace behind

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: disastrous 

my last

box me up in
your finest oakwood
lock the latch so
the things that should
stay unbothered will sink
from my bones into the
soil, during the next
rain, they’ll grow and
haunt the stones, rivers
mountains and lakes with
the echoes of words you
won’t ever get to take
from me, even after
i’m gone – i’d rather
be the hum on
another ghost’s tongue
than be, some song
you once would have
sung indifferently

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: soil

chocolate lining

line the pockets
of your brain
with coffee and
chocolate, so that you
will always see
what is sweet
even when you’re
balancing on
the edges of
your mind


when the sun breathes out
lighting up crimson embers
a tangerine thread stretched
across the horizon, burning
the mountains, fields, and grass –
all turn black with their backs
against the fire,
our shadows wilt, melted into
a fine ink, bodies taking root,
sinking deep into the earth,
the sun, carving our silhouettes
from the soot and ash of the
approaching night

backdated Post a Day poem for April 10th, 2017

summer sun

Poet's Corner

afternoon heat splashes
across parking lots,
making the air
wiggle and squirm –

View original post 59 more words

out to get us

shadows drum their fingertips
across the tabletops of dreams
restlessly waiting, lined up by lights –
we roll over sleepily – then the
shadows put on their masks.
in the moment between thunder
and slumber, we believed the shadows to be
something other than
dark things curling their
fingers around lamp stands,
something out to get you and me
backdated Post a Day poem for April 9th, 2017