black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.

M.K. Standby

And in the end when the money is gone – will you still stay it was worth it.
M.K. STANDBY

End Money Willing Worth
I’m scared of mediocrity, of scribing my soul on fading pages, each destined to the fate that met those before it – gently laid to rest in a growing pile of unwanted words.
M.K. STANDBY

Fade Growth Mediocre Myself Page Scare
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
Her body may lay on your sheets, but my name sits softly on your lips.
M.K. STANDBY

Body Lips Name Softness
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
Lies sound so sweet when they are wrapped in velvet, a luxurious deception that charms my restless spirit – and I’m forever taken by beautiful things.
M.K. STANDBY

Beautiful Forever Luxury Lying Myself Sound Sweet
Spirits dance on a velvet night, the sky it’s deepest black. In restless sleep and twisted dreams, they find themselves alive.
M.K. STANDBY

Alive Black Dance Dreams Night Spirit
I sit by the sea wall, willing the waves to stay. Pulling away with gentle abandon – they avenge me for doing the same.
M.K. STANDBY

Abandonment Myself Sea Stay Wall Wave
Just tell me that it won’t be the same- that one day I won’t look at you, and only see a stranger.
M.K. STANDBY

Future Myself People Stranger
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
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
Painting over cracks as you watch the ceiling fall – not everything can be healed with love.
M.K. STANDBY

Ceiling Healing Love Painting
You are a mirage – never mine to hold. A glimering promise so tempting to chase, eternally out of reach.
M.K. STANDBY

Forever Mirage Reach Temptation
Peace found me in a wordless embrace – in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages.
M.K. STANDBY

Embrace Finding Page Peace Sound
We didn’t know it was simpler, did we? Those days of sunburnt youth and carefree adventure. Knowing that indestructible optimism would waver with experience – would I have gripped it a little tighter? Held on a little longer?
M.K. STANDBY

Adventure Experience Hold Known Simplicity

Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.

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Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.

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Popular Authors

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