It’s Here… (Nanowrimo)

It's upon me, the month it's all stitched tightly together. In a month, it'll have eyes   to peek through drawn curtains a hand to reach from the dark alleys of their imagination,   a sultry, whispering voice that's neither charming or alarming but enticing,   commanding, urging them to climb, run and jump, dash... Continue Reading →

Rifled

he scrolled through his contacts, debating on who'd hear the ringing shots, who'd get burned by a stray shell and who'd toss his gun not who'd get cut down mid-run trying to save him from himself: the ride or die who pawned her life for his love - B. Brown (art courtesy of Pinterest)

She Raises Me

A prose poem that I wrote for class: Flirting with thirty from down the hall, barely grasping the scheme of it all, I pull my breaker tighter though the weather is nicer as she tugs on the strap of my baggage, slowing my pace. In a line, with no front and no end but I'm... Continue Reading →

To Whom This May Concern…

As sorry as I've felt, at the foot of my bed, fetal and folded in holiday in flannel, softening for a cigaro persuading tomorrow, while clasping laughter of way back when, (it sometimes slips) to sing with your arrival and to ring with your arousal like when I ushered you through down my Nile, risking... Continue Reading →

Scenes

their wics flickeredlike cautious starsand her moving mind,the heaviest hole- B. Brown(image courtesy of Pinterest)

Dance With Me

I skip to the rustle of emerald leaves, dandelions riverfronts in the bustleing breeze kicking to the sun and it's holy choir singing to my skin and humming within the safety of serrated mountains keeping tempo above the earths momento a trail of tears and hopes worn in by my foregoers can't you hear it?... Continue Reading →

Estranged

how comfortable I wasgiving everything I thought I wasbefore I knew what or who I wasconformingperforming how a hidden witness doeshow solicitouswith barely a soul to offerif it'd give me a chancea placea body to harbor- B. Brown(image courtesy of Pinterest)

Untimely Wisdom

like a flower who bloomed too soon, I witnessed the harshes of winters, alonepelted with acidic rain no chance to glisten with dew,only frost, fragrance diffusedI welt before decaying leaves,  my flush foreign amongst fraying faculties,couldn't fathom following throughas a phantom into the spring- B. Brown

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