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Unfortunately, It Was Paradise: Selected Poems by
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Anelia
is on page 128 of 191
I saw what the dead remember and what they forget.
Time spins through their watches but they don't age.
They never sense our death, nor perceive their life,
nothing of what I was or would be.
It's a chaos of personal pronouns.
"He" is in 'T'-"he" is in "you." No more whole and no more part.
No living one to say to a dead man: be me.
— Nov 20, 2025 01:46AM
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Time spins through their watches but they don't age.
They never sense our death, nor perceive their life,
nothing of what I was or would be.
It's a chaos of personal pronouns.
"He" is in 'T'-"he" is in "you." No more whole and no more part.
No living one to say to a dead man: be me.
Hera
is 16% done
"Our is a country of words: Talk. Talk. Let me rest my road against a stone. / Ours is a country of words: Talk. Talk. Let me see an end to this journey."
— Nov 05, 2025 12:00PM
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Laila
is on page 98 of 191
“Ours is a country of words: Talk. Talk. Let me rest my road against stone.
Ours is a country of words: Talk. Talk. Let me see an end to this journey”
Yeah I am crying.
— Sep 28, 2025 11:09AM
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Ours is a country of words: Talk. Talk. Let me see an end to this journey”
Yeah I am crying.
Laila
is on page 35 of 191
On the verge of tears reading this at work hey
— Sep 27, 2025 08:22AM
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