moving on (Remove filter)
Broken Bottles
It shattered across the floor
I knew this was coming, it was no surprise
I couldn’t take it anymore
Oh, the fire in his eyes
His hand against my neck
His breath against my cheek
I pulled away hoping not to wreck
Yet his presence felt so meek
The way he talked to me
The way he spat on the ground
The way he grabbed my knee;
It had me all turned around
...
Tuesday 20th March 2018 4:29 am
Recent Comments
Stephen Gospage on Prayer for the Little Ones
12 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
17 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
33 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Fallen Leaf
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
1 hour ago
Yanma Hidayah on The heart that waited
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SUPPORT GENOCIDE ACTION I OPPOSE PALESTINE ACTION
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'Little Boy' 6/8/1945 (80 Years Ago)
2 hours ago