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The rain reminds me of his voice, a perfectly composed melody in the sky. Each drop that falls against my window, a dedication to the oceans I would cross – just to sit beside him.

M.K. Standby

I read that good things take time – but one look at him, and I knew I could never love someone more.
M.K. STANDBY

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

Ceiling Healing Love Painting
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
Leaves dance on twisted arms, swaying on the breeze as though choreographed by unseen hands. Even the faithless could find themselves converts, by the smell of dampened earth and its blossoming rose.
M.K. STANDBY

Blossom Dance Earth Faith Hands Leave Rose Twist
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
My throat burns with the words left unspoken, air hangs still and silence hides the words you long to hear – stay.
M.K. STANDBY

Burn Hesitate Silence Stay Talk Throat
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
What use is sleep, when reality is more beautiful than my dreams could ever muster?
M.K. STANDBY

Beautiful Dreams Love Reality Sleep
My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
M.K. STANDBY

Myself Plagiarism Thinking Writing
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
Building a fire from a ash, what did I expect?
M.K. STANDBY

Build Expectation Fire Myself
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 waste your words on me, your face speaks in volumes that your breath could never reach.
M.K. STANDBY

Breathe Face Reach Waste Word
Her body may lay on your sheets, but my name sits softly on your lips.
M.K. STANDBY

Body Lips Name Softness
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 rain reminds me of his voice, a perfectly composed melody in the sky. Each drop that falls against my window, a dedication to the oceans I would cross – just to sit beside him.

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The rain reminds me of his voice, a perfectly composed melody in the sky. Each drop that falls against my window, a dedication to the oceans I would cross – just to sit beside him.

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Popular Authors

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