Poems from Purstiltski7
DFTBA! 18-year-old sleep-writer. Diabetic lover of overcast days. I will be attending the University of Utah, hopefully going into some aspect of English to become an editor, like Julie Strauss-Gabel—my dream! I plant my words and run away, alone and comforted.
In desperation,
I leave words carved
into IHOP napkins
and left on nightstands.
I would carve into the western
cedar, but my pen
is dull....
Am I a bad person,
for liking a man in a uniform,
even though I cringe
at the thought of the material
giving way to daggers
and silver...
Somehow, she holds
a delicate balance in the air.
Not graceful—
she tips as if filled
with sloshing, sweet water—
but she stays above the...
He's the character of man
who thinks himself kind
and generous
until it's all that he is—
a gentle touch,
a loving caress.
Prick and...
My brother was a carpenter,
with wood-stained hands—
more cedar than cherry.
What's a hard wood?
I'm not the carpenter.
I can only use a...