Tag: poetry

Sanity 

Published on by Tosha Michelle20 Comments

You have to let go of what is hurting you. You can’t keep rewriting the same story, especially when the ending never changes. There’s only so many revisions you can make. Some stories weren’t meant to have a happy ending, some stories were meant to be left incomplete
Sometimes you have to find the courage to put the old narrative away and write a new story.
Have a great weekend everyone 💕

Beginnings

Published on by Tosha Michelle36 Comments

Kiss me that hard,
that deep.

Punctuate the sentence of us
with your tongue.

Make a victim of the air
with your hands.

Dance with me until I can’t
stop sparking to your drumbeat
thighs and comprising hips.

Let your lightning enter and defile me.
Douse me with the sweat of roses

Write me over in thorns and
petal blossoms.

Let the bees pollinate

Honeyed and satiated.
I come unhinged.

-Tosha Michelle

Fill Me Up 

Published on by Tosha Michelle45 Comments


Because I’m an empty vessel
waiting to be filled.
I find myself flirting with sin.
I do it by way of pen
and paper. Trying to stitch
hope into my skin
I snuggle inside words. Poetry
can’t hurt me the way a
man can. In verse, I can build
anticipation again. Doors open
inside my head. Verbs press
against me, hard and
wanton. I find a sacred niche
between the lines. Here
I take the light. Here it never
darkens or leaves.
Devotion blesses me with sweetness
and excess.
Heaven is found in scenes that are
too scary and loud to live.

I’m an empty vessel.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Romancing myself with
my poetic wooings.
Damming myself to things
conjured, a Paradise
devoid of air, the shadows of
a scarred soul, and the
language of mangled spirit
Waiting to be loved again.

-Tosha Michelle

Warmth’s Inner Light

Published on by Tosha Michelle35 Comments

No longer content with the
winter life and its flannel
sleep. Self and it’s terms
finally meet

She wipes away
the frost from her soul
And sees spring illuminated
beyond the cold.
Sunlight the trinket she’s
always possesed
misplaced for awhile
shine from within.
Her sepia world
long deprived of green
become vibrant and
alive again.
She walks away in blue
with plenty of heart
by the light of her own
eyes, no longer needing
to find it in another.
-Tosha Michelle

Delicate Decadence 

Published on by Tosha Michelle47 Comments


Poetry never visits me

dressed in lace

Sipping a colorful drink

Singing and swaying

to a happy tune.

Instead, poetry likes to weep

in my ear, turned out

in black with a bottle

of scotch

Miles Davis on replay.

There’s happiness in me

to be written, to be lived.

I’m never as melancholy

as my writing would suggest.

Joy is just waiting to be

unfolded like a love

note hidden in dresser

buried under layers of clothes.

One day I’ll give into

nostalgia and find solace

in the lyrical prose.

It’s just there so much art and beauty

in the exquisite feeling of

sadnes. My strictured soul

finds solace in its untamed

sweetness. Its bluesey notes

lnown to me, heard by me,

sung by me, felt by me.

The delicate decadence

-Tosha Michelle