black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.

M.K. Standby

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

Ceiling Healing Love Painting
Hollow intent and echoes affection, a call with no response. Who could trust a dormant heart – where apathy is shaped like love?
M.K. STANDBY

Affection Echo Heart Hollow Love Shape Trust
I feel like I’m on fire, fighting for a moment on respite – I’m not placing bets.
M.K. STANDBY

Feeling Fire Moments Place
My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
M.K. STANDBY

Myself Plagiarism Thinking Writing
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
Don’t waste your words on me, your face speaks in volumes that your breath could never reach.
M.K. STANDBY

Breathe Face Reach Waste Word
Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.
M.K. STANDBY

Beyond Hold Language Limitation Scope
You broke me into pieces, but I took those shards and built a mosaic. I’m stronger for the fall, and more beautiful than I could have ever been with you.
M.K. STANDBY

Break Mosaic Pieces Yourself
And in the end-you didn’t deserve my thoughts or my ink.
M.K. STANDBY

Break Up Deserve Heart Thinking
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
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
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
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
Maybe this time I choose ignorance, because giving began to feel like losing – repairing a house from rubble, and making sandcastles with the ash.
M.K. STANDBY

Beginning Choice Home Ignorance Time
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

The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.

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The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.

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