All the matter in the world still couldn't equal my regret
A collection of poems reflecting doubt and despair
What happened to your spirit
Rhyme & despair
My love is free. Hers on the other hand...
The answer is always the same.
Maybe my heart is a diaphanous veil
He says you are nothing but does with a sweat
Going, going, gone
They say when someone rescues you, you become indebted to them forever. It's true.
The future is missing any sun
Doubt was sound asleep and dreaming
Narcissism. Longing. Unrequited love.
This poem IS NOT about the guy I'm crazy in love with.
I'll drop your heart in the lost and found
Learnings and hard earnings
Maybe I'm not what they need
She's a pyramid scheme
Poem + digiart
People change but nothing changes
He gives her everything and she gives him unfaithfulness
Micropoem + angelic digiart
Christmas mourning freestyle rhyme
Call me crazy but my heart says he loves me
The way forward is forgiveness not revenge
Place a temple where the love is waning
After midnight freestyle
Letting this love sink with the lies
Something good comes from all bad things but I can't find one here...
All a man has is his word but he doesn't even have that...
Bleeding in rhyme and real time
She tried to warn them but they never listen; quick to cast a stone but not on the wrong...
Don't just hit like, read!
Who will save the sane?
Ah, love in the underworld; sinks fangs into flesh (succulent)
Too many choices
All woe is me post halloween
He left me high and dry
"Gimme that cold shoulder like “brrr” I make a snow cone with it, sir" - Alexander Ebert
Dear Poe, I need answers...
Like a ghost he roams my heart, I miss him.
Cast not the first stone... (super late night freestyle remorse/regret)
A Visit From Lu Part 4
Like a fucking yoyo we are but if I wanted a fag, I could pop down to the store...
He loves us, he loves us not
Hope is a dead star
Nothing is real. I cannot feel.
Commitment issues are his running shoes
A Visit From Lu Part 3 (new poetry series)
Just a little poem about ego
Caught between the devil and the poems I keep writing...
I thought I was just a gatherer but I suppose I am a huntress as well.
Hope is a fragile thing
Love makes no sense
His indecision is final / I am the Goddess of Confusion
I wasn't prepared for winter
Dark places, dark thoughts, freestyle ache
Banished from his heart
He wears the crown of suffering. Another freestyle.
Does he really mean the terrible things he says about me?
Truth makes noise (early morning ramble + snap)
Your love is a supermassive black hole
Past relationships do not define me. Old versions of me died. Zero luggage. So much time wasted trying to find love.
I had to drown the thing that was drowning me...
This is not my best writing, but it comes from a real place of fear as I battle depression and suicidal tendencies. Trigger warning.
They care not while I rot.
He is everywhere inside me. A micropoem about confusion and worry. And a little bit of love.
Letting go is so hard. I can't. I love him. I shouldn't but I do... 😦
I cheat on the day with the night. The Sun is chasing the Moon and the Moon is seeking the Sun but the two never meet.
The cost of mistakes, the price of reason
A poem about the devil in hell or about depression. Depression IS hell.
I know not anything.
All the things I've done and want to do. Truth is, I only want you. A tragic poem which contains an ounce of hope. My life is a Shakespearean tragedy. 😊
I need him
I imagine getting pulled into a black hole must feel exactly like depression and anxiety.
The lure of fucking love. A poem. A micropoem about purgatory, longing, desire.
A poem about cancelled friendships
What you want is right before your eyes...
The world sleeps It passes noise for confusion Sleep for delusion Death it still creeps © Delia Ross. 2019
A poem about how hard we make life for one another.
WARNING: The following story contains explicit gore, imagery, & death. It is intended for an older audience. Though it is not age restricted, caution should be taken when reading, as it may cause triggers in some due to the sensitive context and subject matter. Proceed with caution.