returned to sender

I no longer want these golden leaves
they look good on my shelf but
they can’t quench my thirst.

Each one makes me want
another and another and another—
an addiction turning
into an aggression

chewing up the soul.

Take them back now, please
they belong elsewhere;

I’ll forever cherish the brief


© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved


filled with emptiness

Leaves are turning, urging us to turn the page, the colors anew. Some trees never forget how we napped and kissed beneath their shade, whispered poetry in each other’s ear, breathing life into love’s passionate verse.

Just like some hearts will always remember how pregnant promises are nothing but hollow words.


© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved