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Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.

Emily Kurc

Men like you were never meant for storms like us.
EMILY KURC

Instagram Captions Man Storm Yourself
Your name still tastes like poison in my mouth.
EMILY KURC

Myself Name Poison Taste
I learned to make art with my broken heart.
EMILY KURC

Art Broken Heart Learning Myself
The future belongs to those who are brave enough to speak up about things that matter.
EMILY KURC

Brave Enough Future Talk Worth
Faded secrets and old voices have built towns inside my heart. Thats were we still meet.
EMILY KURC

Build Fade Heart Myself Secret Voice
A sea of jumbled emotions I had longed to live again, a feeling that no metaphor could match.
EMILY KURC

Emotion Feeling Live Myself Sea
Even the places we used to visit in this empty town feel lyrical. My heart can’t help but sing along even now, but I’m tired.
EMILY KURC

Empty Feeling Help Myself Place Tired Visit
I miss the sweat of september and the stickiness of the sheets.
EMILY KURC

Bed Love Missing Myself Romance Togetherness
Occasionally, the sun is eclipsed by the body of a weeping human. Her tears make the soil harden and crust like the top of a burnt load of bread.
EMILY KURC

Body Cry Eclipse Food Herself Human Occasion Sun
Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.
EMILY KURC

Hurt Leaving Love Myself Poetry Time
There were still embers scattered around me from the bridges I have burned. I wonder if they can feel it too. The space between us lingering like a scarlet letter, I’m learning how to love again.
EMILY KURC

Bridge Learning Love Myself Scatter Wonder
We all show our true colors eventually – mine is dark and firesome red. I bet I burned you. I don’t expect to see you soon.
EMILY KURC

Burn Color Darkness Expectation Myself True Yourself
Soft and sweet and wrapped around your fingertips.
EMILY KURC

Fingers Love Relationship Soft Sweet
I woke up this morning and for once, I had no desire to drink my morning coffee. Is that how it felt for you to wake up and never return?
EMILY KURC

Coffee Desire Drink Morning Return Wake Up Yourself
There was a hesitation in your touch only time could see.
EMILY KURC

Hesitation See Time Touch Yourself
He grabbed my hand as the flames licked at my feet and the devil and I danced.
EMILY KURC

Dance Devil Flame Hands Myself

Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.

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Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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