It Is Written

Fun fact: I have been referred to as "a cub" cuz I never look my age (forever young). The poem suggests I never act my age either and I would concur...

Middle

I'll take the middle of try; that's where you are.

Pondering

Poetry

Mirage 2.0

I love being just a number to the artist who inspire me....

Caught Between the Devil

Caught between the devil and the poems I keep writing...

Hunter

I thought I was just a gatherer but I suppose I am a huntress as well.

CONFUSION FRONT AND CENTER

His indecision is final / I am the Goddess of Confusion

Prozac

Oh my fucking goddddd, another day, of my two favorite things

King of Sorrows

He wears the crown of suffering. Another freestyle.

Narrow Views

We haven't learned a thing...

Clot

HIS LOVE IS PUTRID

Undiscovered

Past relationships do not define me. Old versions of me died. Zero luggage. So much time wasted trying to find love.

Homeless

Where do I put the love?

Scarecrow

It's better to love him from afar.

Stone

You'll never get close to me.

Sun and Moon

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.

Awareness

Awake to reason

Debris

I am a wasteland

Goodbye

A poem about how hard goodbyes are.

Emotional Cargo

We are all carrying such heavy loads. A poem about that.

Breaks Like Sadness

She breaks like sadness dancing over the womb She aches as night washes over the Moon If you shine your light she will run too soon Overstay your welcome and she'll be gone by noon © Delia Ross. 2019

Severed Connections

Always alone, what else do we know? We have grown accustomed to loom Universally we stand connected By lines to each other's doom How erroneous to accept The progress of dreaming, The TV is on, my computer is streaming All the world is aglow... © Delia Ross. 2010

A Chapter Yet Filled

Who here desire that love be all one needs? Surely, I say not for me. Though love proves a clever disguise, Love does not make one wise. It preys upon the weak The mere beauty only, For purity it speaks. And I a blossom yet to bloom, This cold entraps and seals my wounds. I … Continue reading A Chapter Yet Filled

Apathy

I have but apathy to loan Where once a heart of gold Now all but shades of stone The clouds a frown The dirt my home I am but a shadow more The frost withered on the grass A sound upon shattered glass A wall without a door © Delia Ross. 2018 Find me on: … Continue reading Apathy

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this:

Like this: