Poems from Em-Em
I sit around; my eyes flare up above.
A ceiling, a window, a door
A table, the math teacher, the floor
-All are fancy decorations
To...
She holds the pen when others go rest
Her mind works when the clock strikes twelve
In the evening she is a poet
And in the dark,
She lays...
Let me remember your sounds,
Your steps, your eyes
And let them be the photographs
I hide in the pockets of my mind.
Let them be the...
Itchy, unfinished poems
Send me to bed
With broken plans.
I close my eyes
And think of the lines
I might scribble down
Only to find them...
There I saw the world
As my fingers made it twirled.
Round and round it goes
And with a single poke, it halts.
I could travel with my...