black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.

M.K. Standby

Building a fire from a ash, what did I expect?
M.K. STANDBY

Build Expectation Fire Myself
Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
M.K. STANDBY

Haunt Heart Ink Ourselves Poet Story
So long as we share a sky, in this life and any after – I’ll find my way back to you.
M.K. STANDBY

Finding Share Sky Way Yourself
In the end it’s all the same – the hearty fire or the damp earth. I pray I’m not alone.
M.K. STANDBY

Alone Earth Myself Prayer
Scribbled lines and crumpled pages – piles of rejection and resurrection. There will never be the right words to amend a lost goodbye.
M.K. STANDBY

Goodbye Lost Poet Rejection Right Writing
A collection of thoughts bundled together and bound in twine – more toxic than any chemical, my very own poison.
M.K. STANDBY

Collection Poison Thought Togetherness
Your arms around me – and for the first time in years, I feel like I am home.
M.K. STANDBY

Home Intimacy Love Myself Relationship Yourself
What use is sleep, when reality is more beautiful than my dreams could ever muster?
M.K. STANDBY

Beautiful Dreams Love Reality Sleep
The bond of friendship as tight as any lover – where shoulders carry shared burden, a devotion unmatched by any other.
M.K. STANDBY

Burden Devotion Friendship Lover
The knot in a grain of wood, a frost covering sodden grass. Mornings warmed by the rising sun and brewing coffee – the vision of the poet.
M.K. STANDBY

Forest Perspective Poet Rising Vision
Your kisses fell on me like sand through an hourglass – a thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness.
M.K. STANDBY

Fall Heart Kiss Moment
Born in one country and raised in another – seperated by ocean, but tied in blood.
M.K. STANDBY

Blood Country Immigrant Ocean
I wished to every fountain, prayed to every god but some futures are set in stone – so here we go again.
M.K. STANDBY

Fountain Future Myself Prayer Stone
Her body may lay on your sheets, but my name sits softly on your lips.
M.K. STANDBY

Body Lips Name Softness
The smell of oak reminds me of summers spent sleeping under canvas, crackling fires and roasted coffee, the soft sound of guitar and voices in unison.
M.K. STANDBY

Fire Guitar Reminder Softness Sound Summer Unison Voice
I see the way that he is with you – holding your heart with softness he never spared for mine.
M.K. STANDBY

Jealousy Myself Relationship See Way

Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.

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Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.

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Popular Authors

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