Tag Archives: Metaphor

The Homebody


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Broken Hearts

Broken hearts taste
like glass shards
in old wine.



My affection, it grew like a tree
Reaching out words like branches
Chopped & sanded till you swept up the scraps
With a broom of the twigs that fell off.


Description unavailable

Description unavailable (Photo credit: lilithwitch)

comes rolling out of my pursed lips
like smoke curling under the door.

Somebody’s going to get burnt soon.

Pretty Notions

wet hand on rock - Spain Fraile river

wet hand on rock – Spain Fraile river (Photo credit: solarthermienator)

Pretty notions,
like faint moisture
on her hands
in the sunlight,
and vanished into thin air.

The First Rain

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Description unavailable (Photo credit: martinak15)


The memory of him
clings to the tips of her hair,
like the first rain that they got caught in, inadvertently.



The first was a warrior; he broke my heart to pieces
The second an artist; he sculpted them into beauty with knife cuts
The third was a trader; he bought passion for sympathy
The fourth was a realtor; he cleaned up and then sold out

And finally, I was left with an empty, newly refurbished heart
in the emotional wasteland of a life.

So I put up a new board that said ‘Tenant wanted’.


Intimacy in brief, blinding flashes,
like light reflecting off a knife’s edge,
between our cold, hard selves.


edge^2 (Photo credit: dog on wheels)

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