xanthan gum

I am compost. I am a bag of waste, I am a mistake of ligaments and scars and I am the empty, flashing remains since the creation of electrons, I ...

The first stanza felt strong, like a critisizing instructor of some sort, but after that... "as it digs ever-deeper into your chest. Are you afraid of the first step?" I ...

I met midnight knowing I'd been used, but you had the decency to let me sit until morning, wallowing in the sweat of my insecurity, so at dawn I reeked ...

I love how you integrated the modern with a biblical tale - that allusion makes it all the more universally powerful. However, the first stanza does not rhyme, while the ...

I love how you use "yeah" and "thee" in the same line. It shows such an intense contrast, like a mix of old school courting and new school parties. In ...

I think you should change the word "mean" in the first paragraph to in, the words have already been spoken. More so, such a riddling tone is offset by the ...

The subject came up about rehab, whilst I swallowed sour pills long fermenting in your sidestreet pockets, And you said "If only I was there, to change the way it ...

I like it much, much better. Except for chipped toenails. The image makes me cringe. I'm amazed how you transformed a poem that was moderate (okay, maybe not so good ...

Darling, what are you trying to say? Your writing is the character in this poem, clutching and clawing to embody the meaning behind the words, but far too desperately! The ...

wine glass on the kitchen table, ninety percent empty. pills - three white, one crushed, the rest taken. and in the dismal solitude of her house, she weeps - one ...

I wrote about two years ago.. I don't know how it came up, honestly! So I'm not going to edit it, but I agree the word "baby" is out of ...

(I doubt I will ever write a poem for someone again. It's a sad attempt.) our heartstrings may be as lithe as the branches crowning dew-drenched trees - but where ...

Nothing can compare to nature, (semicolon maybe?) we retread this adventure, when no art and no poetry, can account for the beauty around me. I completely agree. I love these ...

This is largely confusing, so allow me to ramble on about certain meanings I can identify here. I'd appreciate if you expressed your meaning in response - I'm curious to ...

I find that my life has been lost – all I recorded on sad scraps of hotel paper has found its home under Oxford-clad feet: between the rich and the ...