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Do ghosts get tired of haunting? Of chasing old flames in darkness, of walking through dreams casting shadows against walls, against hearts, do they feel themselves forgotten?

Emily Kurc

Soft and sweet and wrapped around your fingertips.
EMILY KURC

Fingers Love Relationship Soft Sweet
The sun touched your skin with innocent delicacy as if you were a work of out that was made to be admired deeply.
EMILY KURC

Admire Deep Innocence Skin Sun Touch Yourself
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
I know I write too many love poems, and perhaps this is me admitting that the love inside me is still there somewhere, stagnant – but its a cruel addiction. I need a intervention.
EMILY KURC

Addiction Cruel Love Myself Need Poem Writing
In a dream like haze, the moment you left still spins on repeat like a broken record.
EMILY KURC

Break Dreams Moments Repeat
When the leaves begin to fall, I find myself returning to old playlists in hopes that I can feel you holding my hand, or kissing me goodnight, or hear you singing my name into songs and blueing when it makes no sense.
EMILY KURC

Beginning Fall Leaves Name Old Play Return Sing Song Yourself
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
I thought time would heal my broken heart, but its been forever since I fell in love and I’m scared that you took pieces of me that can’t be replaced.
EMILY KURC

Broken Heart Healing Myself Pieces Replacement Scare Thinking Time
I no longer wear my heart on my sleeve. Instead, I keep this love folded up, like a tiny paper plane, until my heart is ready to soar again.
EMILY KURC

Heart Love Myself Plane
I hope you think of me during every thunderstorm.
EMILY KURC

Hope Myself Storm Thinking
Your name still tastes like poison in my mouth.
EMILY KURC

Myself Name Poison Taste
I taught you how to love so you could get it right with someone else.
EMILY KURC

Love Myself Right Teaching Yourself
I like to think of myself as the sun, but it gets really lonely all the way out here especially when everything I try to touch burns.
EMILY KURC

Burn Lonely Myself Sun Thinking Touch Try
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
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
Faded secrets and old voices have built towns inside my heart. Thats were we still meet.
EMILY KURC

Build Fade Heart Myself Secret Voice

Do ghosts get tired of haunting? Of chasing old flames in darkness, of walking through dreams casting shadows against walls, against hearts, do they feel themselves forgotten?

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Do ghosts get tired of haunting? Of chasing old flames in darkness, of walking through dreams casting shadows against walls, against hearts, do they feel themselves forgotten?

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Popular Authors

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