MT

by

Empty feelings
Empty streets
Empty pocket
Empty wallet
Empty fridge
Empty heart
Empty stares
Empty cradle
Empty bottle
Empty home
Empty smile
Empty plate
Empty bed
Empty nest
Emptiness
Empty
Empt
Emp
Em
E
F
I
.

Image credit: Feature image generated with DALL·E using a prompt based on this poem and its themes.
If this piece resonates with you and you’re a visual artist, I’d love to feature your own soul-crafted work in place of the AI image.

From the poetry compilation

Happy Hallucinations

More Poems

Origin of the World

Origin of the World

As I climb your mountains,Stand on top of your peak,I gaze far awayAnd see your valleyOf thousand mysteries —The fertile crescentFor which men wage wars,And die miserable deathsOf forgotten despairYour majestic canyonWould be the muse for artists,Or sometimes a...

Happy Hallucinations

Happy Hallucinations

I hopeTo find myselfIn your happy hallucinations,Where you could gazeAt the butterflies inside my stomachJittering at your sightFluttering purple kisses,Sometimes teal, or pink…To contrast your inner worldOf a thousand shades of grey,To remind you of a worldFull of...

Mirror

Mirror

You’re not a ‘damaged good’. Not to me, at least. You’re alluring In your chaotic grace, A bright candle Daring to burn its brightest On a dark stormy night. The fractal cracks Of your broken heart Radiates with an ardent passion – An incandescent guiding light For...

Cold Warmth

Cold Warmth

There is warmth In your cold embrace. Your sweet words are Visible to my naked eyes, As they wrap me up Like a thick fog Covering a beautiful secret. How beautiful you look Adorned with your crown of glacier... Your icy, pale eyes, Hiding a heart full of love – A...

Dear Alchemist

Dear Alchemist

What do you do When you wake up One fine morning, Discovering What you thought To be your darkness Was your light all along? When you find that Your frigid heart Has been guarding Kindlings for you And has been Gracefully striking Your hardened Regret and misery To...

Worms on my lips

Worms on my lips

When I’ll cease to be,And the worms will throw a feastOn these lips that you loved so,Know that they will sayCould they say anything at all:“In his last moment,He sighed your name.”Image credit: Feature image generated with DALL·E using a prompt based on this poem and...

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