Stories (210/0)
The Annual Poetry Award for the Token Poverty Class Poet
I do not care for your quotidian sesquipedalian poetry or prose. Periphrastic pensive gazing from your opulent safety glass windows incites me to vomit my plastic pellet fish and glyphosate potato dish over it. You obfuscate words to sunder your world from mine, erecting the heart’s frozen vault, creating the ironic foundation of your whining melancholy.
By Kayleigh Fraser ✨2 months ago in Poets
The Seeker
What are you seeking? The breeze that had been gently flowing as they shared breakfast suddenly ceased. His dark brown eyes stared so deeply into, and beyond hers. He leaned towards her, his voice was barely audible as he spoke those four words that she now replayed.
By Kayleigh Fraser ✨2 months ago in Humans