Teen Ink

Advanced Search Results

• Poetry > Free Verse
  Bloom

  

  By LessonOfTheMoth, Denver, CO

  I have heart strings playing to the tune of your spinal chords - and I’m trying to cut every single one of them. The photos from my camera throat may be negatives, but my chemicals just develop them differently - a concoction of bad memories, of nightmares and photos pushed face down ...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Sunday Night

  

  By LessonOfTheMoth, Denver, CO

  Osama Bin laden died the 1st of May; American citizens lined up in front of the White House to cheer and sing - death has seldom been welcomed with such open hearts, fists in the air, hands joined with ghosts between their fingers - I wonder about the mothers, fathers, sitting in front of...
• Nonfiction > Travel & Culture
  To the Home-Owner’s Association

  

  By LessonOfTheMoth, Denver, CO

  Acapulco, Mexico People jump off cliffs here, and trust the ocean to catch them. She's sitting in front of her house, staring out into the streets so full of people riding in the backs of trucks, walking barefoot down the sidewalks, and it's just so foreign to me, can't imagine ...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Respect

  

  By LessonOfTheMoth, Denver, CO

  There are lilacs in my throat from being told I’m sacred soil to all of the right people, whose love goes down like honey when I’m sick of all the silence - it rings out in a clamor of tambourines, slicing through the heavy silence; music lifts into the sky like fire warming my frozen hand...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Her Face

  

  By LessonOfTheMoth, Denver, CO

  Take me for my imperfections, my neurotic fingers, my brain racing back and forth along my paranoias like my fingertips along your skin - I love the strangest things: the mountain horizon of vertebrae and the way your face curves to meet your neck, and the breath beneath - it's easy t...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Success

  

  By LessonOfTheMoth, Denver, CO

  Words around me ring of success, quantifiable just as much as it is buyable, at the cost of incomplete dreams, perfection, when all that is real is imperfection, and all we want is to dance down dirt roads and find truth in the dust that makes its home on our skin, kicked up by our sub-par mov...