I hate that I can see you drowning in ink far too muted to ever be called blue Am I meant to rescue you? Without will or way I have found you, angry and left wanting, dressed down on cotton pages, milling in mediocrity and pulling pleasantries from the clichés that speak your name and [...]
Tag: Poets of Instagram
A Cosmic Disappointment
I drink and I scream and I curse the stars, and still you are here, blaring in my fucking veins. Nicole Lyons 2017
Most Days
I don’t know if I will ever know the truth of us, and what could have been, what should have been, what will never be. But I do know I loved you and I think you may have loved me too, and most days that is enough. Nicole Lyons 2017
Under Your Bed
I have loved as I have never been loved, and in loving as I have never been, I have held the hands of gods and laid weeping before the closed fists of disappointment dripping with my own blood and barely skimming forgiveness. Perhaps it will come to me, this love, a love, beneath your bed, [...]
Hard Love
It is a difficult thing, the knowing and the not, and the weight of carrying it all. That we are not of this world and never have been, but perhaps we have been placed here as punishment for living too full and loving too hard against the softness of whatever we are made up of. [...]
Walk With Me
Walk with me. Walk with me through this world; hands clasped tightly, bodies at ease. Walk with me. Let us travel together to places unknown where we can fill our lungs with strange air and dip our toes into unusual waters. Walk with me. Let us climb mountains beneath the sea in search of [...]
The Queen is Gasping
I no longer speak your name but my walk is still tall and quite jagged from the love you left inside of me. I drag my feet with the weight of it sloshing in the pit of my belly when I stroll through the market searching for that old farmer and his melons, the ones [...]
Cast That Messy Shine
I like dirty hearts and restless minds, the old souls that have known hard lives; the ones who cast the most beautiful shine. © Nicole Lyons 2017
A Pocket Full of Mania
I have sidled up to demons and whispered them to sleep but these fiery angels in my pocket care nothing for decent conversation. © Nicole Lyons 2017
Go on Wanderer
I know you hear it calling. I hear it too, the howling of primitive winds and beasts long extinct. Go on wanderer, push the pull and find your feet, tell me of your travels when you come back home. © Nicole Lyons 2017
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