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Burnt mirror, smeared glass. Do you like what you see? If my body is a temple, then my poetry is the darkest vestry. My mouth is a chalice, and these words are sacramental.

Gemma Iversen

What’s the end game? Well, when hate is your agenda, and my own is but love, then this game is not one in which you feature, and my end, is a far-flung world from yours.
GEMMA IVERSEN

End Feature Game Hate Love Yourself
I’ve brought myself back to life more times than I can remember. And when I say I brought myself back, I mean, I have clawed, clambered and coaxed myself from the precipice of self destruction.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Hard Time Life Myself Remember Struggle Time
I can fade to darkness too. Through fear or want or need, its true. If only to escape the truth; that loneliness abides with you.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Darkness Fade Fear Lonely Need True Yourself
Guess who’s flying free now? You, a mere speck of the ground. And I, lost and found amongst the clouds.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Attitude Break Up Fly Freedom Lost Relationship Yourself
You pack your whole life away as many times as I have, and it’s no more than routine. But in you I’ve found a home, more so than anywhere I’ve been.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Home Life Myself Time
I looked again at my new ring and in that moment all I knew, was that the greatest of adventures would be revealed in with you.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Adventure Love Moments Relationship Reveal Ring Yourself
I sell my pain in beauty. Wrap it in words. Package it in pleasantries, and deliver it in verse.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Beautiful Deliver Happiness Pain Verse Word Wrap
But are they protection or a cage? These ribs that ensnare my heart so.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Cage Heart Myself Protection
Experience has taught me to tell the difference between a man that wants to tame me, mute my voice and claim me, and a man that is bold enough to let me be free.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Bold Difference Experience Freedom Man Myself Relationship Tame Teaching Voice
Burnt mirror, smeared glass. Do you like what you see? If my body is a temple, then my poetry is the darkest vestry. My mouth is a chalice, and these words are sacramental.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Body Burn Darkness Mirror Poetry Sacred See Temple Word
A seed of suspicion. A sprout of doubt. A sapling of worry. But what an oak of strength I’ve become.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Doubt Inspirational Seed Strength Suspicious Worry
I am so sorry that my feelings have the audacity to not be contained within one short sentence.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Audacity Feeling Myself Short
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, and watch me spark like a match tossed to tinder.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Angry Fools Myself Reaction Shame
Somedays, I just need to switch it all off, and turn to the trees.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Day Myself Nature Need Switch
She can shake away the recent frost of misery and pain. As life takes in a vivid sense of meaning once again.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Herself Life Meaning Misery Pain
Go on then, color me broken whilst I feign my surprise. Let me summon some sorrow for this wreckage inside.
GEMMA IVERSEN

Break Color Myself Sorrow Surprise Wreckage

Burnt mirror, smeared glass. Do you like what you see? If my body is a temple, then my poetry is the darkest vestry. My mouth is a chalice, and these words are sacramental.

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Burnt mirror, smeared glass. Do you like what you see? If my body is a temple, then my poetry is the darkest vestry. My mouth is a chalice, and these words are sacramental.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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