theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com
August 2013 – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2013/08
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. End of a Stage. At the end of every stage. Two doors swing open. One with stairs going up. Things will be missed,. Stored at the bottom. Of marked stone steps,. Filed away in the past. They hold a spot in our hearts,. Never letting go the memories. Of joy, sadness, excitement.
theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com
From the Darkest Corner – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2014/01/10/from-the-darkest-corner
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. From the Darkest Corner. You’ve been damaged. Broken and swept under a rug,. Diseased, contagious–. Thrown to the lowest. Dungeons where each day,. Words masked as truth. Say ignore the pain. In the darkest corner,. Friends become foes,. Quotes grow ill,. And the world turns strange.
theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com
October 2014 – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2014/10
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. An impressionist painting,. An ache to shake off. The fairy dust and. Join the thousands of heartbeats. In a city full of dreams. These are the days,. The sleepy days,. Our mind wanders free,. We slip into a vortex. Where we dream enough dreams. To fill a city where. No time is left.
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Quiet – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2014/09/24/quiet
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. Character shoved under the rug,. Society high on new drug,. The drug of ego,. The drug of tongue,. The drug that blinds the mind. Dines on flesh yet drains the blood. Did not our beloved authors write in solitude? Did not our geniuses sit alone contemplating–. And all are actors. Notify m...
theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com
March 2013 – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2013/03
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. There comes an age of reckoning when quartets play duets. And in between barlines a little of you. Sprinkled across the perfumed pages waiting for “adieu. Behind inside jokes or “How long have you known”. Add a few lines of “Oh I know that too”. Dance floor smells of sex on the beach.
theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com
September 2013 – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2013/09
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. The First “I love you”. When first those three words parted lips. Every particle of life quivered. The chapter I had outlined stripped. And the woman inside me stirred. In his eyes I sought confirmation. For the sort written by Sparks*,. Whether it a dream or a plot spun. Tagged i love you.
theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com
September 2014 – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2014/09
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. Some days I wish I was more. Than a resume,. More than a comparison chart. My ego is strong. But not strong enough to brag,. I am imperfect after all. With little time and too few eyes,. We now depend on technology to find the weeds,. Even if it a flower in disguise. When the door shuts.
theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com
December 2014 – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2014/12
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). Ball drops to the sound of clinking glasses. Cheers to a new year. May we be blessed with good health and prosperity. Let the good times roll, let the money rain. One thing is for certain. We’ve wiped our slate clean. What about us early 20’s.
theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com
Job Hunt – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2014/09/27/job-hunt
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. Some days I wish I was more. Than a resume,. More than a comparison chart. My ego is strong. But not strong enough to brag,. I am imperfect after all. With little time and too few eyes,. We now depend on technology to find the weeds,. Even if it a flower in disguise. When the door shuts.
theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com
July 2012 – The Unknown Poetess
https://theunknownpoetess.wordpress.com/2012/07
The Early 20’s on New Year’s Eve (prose). From the Darkest Corner. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 649 other followers. What we see is only the surface. Spider webs on rusting iron. Hidden under swampy water. Along the metal green moss grows. Given color to a weary ship. Beside it sleeps twice as big. Dark gray navy ship in wait. Past battles feel only yesterday. Until the sound of tourist lips. July 16, 2012. November 24, 2012. How high ...
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