poemist (Remove filter)
play by replay
You think I don’t still feel it?
The echo never left.
It’s in the light that spills
across the floor like we used to—
chaotic, accidental, warm.
Yes, I heard every word
you didn’t mean and the silence
that swallowed what we couldn’t say.
Time doesn’t rewind, but it replays.
Not in full—just flashes.
Your laugh— like a match
right before the burn.
I wish we’d argued soft...
Monday 14th July 2025 2:05 am
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Civilities
39 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Stats (To be continued)
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
1 hour ago
Rolph David on The Anchorage Gambit – Reflexive Control
1 hour ago
Graham Sherwood on Stats (To be continued)
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Tikumtok
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
2 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
8 hours ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
10 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
12 hours ago