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stephentotheplate

Where poetry and stories collide.

Tag

melancholy

Sink (prose)

Lost. trying to make my way home- i'm confused somehow- someway, i made a wrong turn. dazed. i slump to the grown. tipid water hits my face, seeps into the cuffs of my jeans. i'm lost. cellphone dying, my mind... Continue Reading →

Tidbits (poem)

What do I do, With the information about a person, I no longer know? Now useless bits of information, Concerning a person, Concerning a world, I am no longer privy to. No longer included in. Unless facts, a drift in... Continue Reading →

With Feeling (poem)

Say it with your chest. Say it with confidence. Say it like you mean it. So that even on my worst day, I know you mean it. I’m not good with the in between stuff. If you love me, thinking... Continue Reading →

Clasped cup in hand, I sit before the Bitter Tree. Chisel in hand, I chip away. Repetitive motions, absent of mind. My mother chipped, her mother, chipped. Now the relentless carving falls to me. Chipping away at an entrenched edifice... Continue Reading →

Fairytales (prose)

I think most people want the fairytale. The locked eyes across the room. The steamy love scenes. The reasonable arguments over misunderstandings. I think most people want their whole relationship to feel like the beginning. A honeymoon phase that never... Continue Reading →

I know what it is To be alive and yet Be dead. Inside, A beating heart. Yet. No breath. I know what it is, to be alive and still be dead. Live Marie. Live, feel what it means to be... Continue Reading →

I'm tired of having to survive love. Of hoping for better days. Better moods. Better conversation. Tired of hoping that things will get better. Of trying to bring about the better on my own. I've refused to survive my life.... Continue Reading →

I could summon the hordes with a snap of my fingers, My feet, Rooted, planted to the ground I am connect. I could create floods, Hurled bolts of lightening across a placid sky. But I can't recreate the feeling of... Continue Reading →

I hate that your last images of me Were of me at my worst. I hope you remember me at my best. The way I was, Before the disappointment.

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