This is a "flash" poem that I wrote as part of a writing course I am in. I'm committing myself to sharing more of my work, and I figured why not start with this.
Expansive, ever growing
Matter, anti-matter, dark matter
Hottest heat, coldest cold
Stars, moons, asteroids, comets
Nebulae, planets
Supermassive black hole
Vacuum
About the Creator
Karen
I'm a writer, maker, and artist searching for my voice. I can't promise any one specific topic or style of writing, but I can promise you that it will all always come from me, never from a machine.
At My Wits’ End
Life is about taking out the trash and calling it trash because you have every reason to. It wasn't meant to be linear, they say. But the times you tried to make it straight led to problems, and you didn’t have the tools to put any of it to use. You don't put your right shoes on the right feet; you put the left shoes on the left feet. The grey hardened slab will trip you up anyway.
By Caitlin Charltonabout 14 hours ago in Psyche
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