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Some days, my mind still flickers, but the light doesn’t stay on. Kind of like the hope I felt when your fingers squeezed my palm. But they simply call that a reflex.

Hannah Pearl

Your words once a melody, now read like an obituary.
HANNAH PEARL

Reading Word Yourself
When words tripped off the side of your grin, I felt the statement slip toward my ear like the slide of a skateboard on griptape – how it led me to hate a sport I’ve never even tried.
HANNAH PEARL

Feeling Hate Myself Sport Try Word
Needle in a haystack, a small town on a roadmap, searching for you through the abstract- how incredibly hard to find.
HANNAH PEARL

Find Hard Incredible Map Road Small Yourself
I miss you a little less each day. You’re just a faded memory now – delicate; tucked away.
HANNAH PEARL

Break Up Day Delicate Fade Missing Myself
Write me as if I were already a poem. Pen the stanzas as if storms and ships could birth something sacred. Color it a religious experience.
HANNAH PEARL

Color Experience Poem Religious Sacred Storm Writing
Some days, my mind still flickers, but the light doesn’t stay on. Kind of like the hope I felt when your fingers squeezed my palm. But they simply call that a reflex.
HANNAH PEARL

Call Day Feeling Hope Light Mindset Myself Name Simplicity Stay
Indigo child, you hid secret under graves, picked at the lamb stuck between teeth, felt around for monsters we once reaped. But the monster turned out to be free.
HANNAH PEARL

Children Freedom Grace Hide Monster Secret
The hardest part is when the leaves abandon the trees. I seem to always lose a part of me.
HANNAH PEARL

Abandonment Hard Leaving Lose Myself Tree
Your voice causes a power surge that courses through the veins, feeds off bones, minors in replay.
HANNAH PEARL

Power Replay Voice Yourself
It wasn’t enough fading under surfaces, below waves, swollen pufferfish retracting this inflated love that not even you could believe in.
HANNAH PEARL

Believe Enough Fade Love Yourself
I waited, quietly listened, cupped my ear to your mouth, but silence echoed grievously in the absence of sound. It was only warm breath and then emptiness.
HANNAH PEARL

Breathe Empty Grief Listening Myself Quiet Silence Sound Wait
What a shame – how the taste of you could rot even the cedar and cypress. How you fooled the redwood into believing narcissus’ pond was made for two.
HANNAH PEARL

Believe Fools Shame Taste Water
If y’all like spooky season just examine my brain. It’s plastered across this page on display.
HANNAH PEARL

Display Examination Myself Season
I am hurting. I am angry. I am one hundred and thirty-two synonyms of regret, but atleast its proof that I was here.
HANNAH PEARL

Angry Hurt Myself Regret
I hide behind olive branches. So afraid of others knowing what lay beneath the broken rifle. The reality hitting the pavement like bullets that stem from war.
HANNAH PEARL

Afraid Break Hide Reality War
I’m from a state that houses too many cornfields and a town that no one takes seriously- in a home where glass cuts hurt less than deeply wounded words.
HANNAH PEARL

Deep Home Serious State Word Wound

Some days, my mind still flickers, but the light doesn’t stay on. Kind of like the hope I felt when your fingers squeezed my palm. But they simply call that a reflex.

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Some days, my mind still flickers, but the light doesn’t stay on. Kind of like the hope I felt when your fingers squeezed my palm. But they simply call that a reflex.

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Popular Authors

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