Ellie
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ellenkrupich.bsky.social
Ellie
@ellenkrupich.bsky.social
1.8K followers 1.1K following 550 posts
Writer ✍ Short prose. Poetry. Haiku 📚 #vss365 #writingcommunity

My posts:
https://bsky.app/profile/did:plc:2wcalufrs3gx7wi4px22l2yd/feed/aaafkf472bdu2
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ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #vss365 #silence
Silence Hug me tight, like your favorite tree in the nearby park— the one that knows all your secrets. Don't mind the scars on my skin: my roots have been left unscathed. There is life, there is warmth in this beating heart. Perhaps I could tell you more... But the night is fragile and oh so still.                   Listen to me—I am silence, I am a quiet grave with an unbridled caress of flowers growing from the dirt. — Ellen Krupich
January 14, 2025 at 1:50 PM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #poetry #vss365
Flowers I know, by winter they will be gone. And still I tend to them. Amid the vast fields of life, surely, there must be a place where this weary soul can breathe. Somewhere, beyond the inscrutable blue. Beyond the unbearable heat of all the precious dust.   Maybe it's more than just a mirage, this realm of hope. Through the morning mist, I see invisible gardens, swaying to the quiet, untamable song of love. Maybe it's there, amongst that sunlit scattering of unplucked daisies, that I should plant myself. — Ellen Krupich
January 12, 2025 at 10:52 AM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #poetry #vss365
Blossoms Redolent of springtime and love, the scent of lilacs drifts on the breeze; on the ground, the last apple blossoms, quietly dying— oh, the sweet, sweet innocence of things that part with life unmurmuringly. I breathe in the dusk; the unreachable reaches my heart, soothing me with a strange, joyful sorrow. Inevitably, some things will go, so let them—another beauty will come in their place in its time, in its time: there's a reason blossoms have loss at their core. — Ellen Krupich
January 9, 2025 at 9:53 AM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #poetry #words
Words Sometimes words have a life of their own. I wonder where mine will go after I am gone. Will they spread their wings and fly or huddle together, shivering in the damp darkness of a dusty drawer? If I had a choice, I think I'd prefer them to sneak, like a thief, into your room, unnoticed, quietly wrapping themselves around you, and sigh. And then hug your heart with all their sudden warmth. — Ellen Krupich
January 7, 2025 at 4:14 PM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
I'm sorry, but this is my poem and my picture that I posted a month ago on Bluesky and also on Twitter 3 days ago. Will you please take it down, or I'll have to report you for stealing my content.
January 4, 2025 at 3:29 PM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #poetry #winter
Some Days Some days are quiet, like snow— they silently fall on eternity's palms, trickle along the lines and melt away. Their memory seeps deep into dark soul's caverns. And we float on, like driftwood, to vast oceans unknown, hardly aware that it's that gentle silence of being that waters and sustains our very roots. — Ellen Krupich
January 1, 2025 at 12:33 PM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #poetry #vsspoem
Hush, Fall The screams of dying colors cannot reach the sky. Soon, they will fade away like some silly dream, slipping through my frozen fingers. I fold myself into a wilted rose between your pages. Somewhere, spring touches your side of pain. Through rain-stained eyes I watch you standing on the shore of an unbounded insanity called love, in the palm of your hand my heart. — Ellen Krupich
December 23, 2024 at 6:29 PM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #poetry #writingcommunity
Memory In the palm of dawn, they bloom. The roses you've planted in all of your gardens, in all of the souls you've touched. Nothing in this life, ever, goes unnoticed. Not even the tiniest bud. Not even a fallen leaf. Somewhere—on the edge of the world— a lily-of-the-valley raises her head, reaching her snow-white lips to kiss the sky, her lover. And he who created both sighs like the only one that knows the heart of a flower born to bloom for a day and then be plucked by a careless hand. — Ellen Krupich
December 15, 2024 at 11:34 AM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #poetry #love
He whispers winged promises to my tormented heart—and, full of suspended flight, I listen. Silent, I listen. While the windowless sky stares into my soul, blind as longing. And in the hazy dusk, distant birds sing of something so terribly vast and tender, that if it entered my heart, I'd drown— as if, in the gentlest of voices, by the most caressing of hands, I was offered to drink the whole of the sea. — Ellen Krupich
December 11, 2024 at 8:02 PM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #poetry #love
Light begins inside, where abysses meet. Forgive me for cherishing dreams without you. For loving the fog, for wasting a lifetime trying to chase dead butterflies in empty fields. When you touched my hand, quietly asking to follow, I saw forget-me-nots growing from your footprints— and everything whispered to me: I'm alive. — Ellen Krupich
December 11, 2024 at 12:21 PM
ellenkrupich.bsky.social
#poem #poetry #vss365
Sometimes rain is unwanted: an unwelcome guest, it timidly taps on the window, as if saying — I'm sorry, but I have to water the roots of all things that grow. The eyes of today's autumn sky are dry, desert-clear. In a wide-spread silence, a pale yellow rose withers on my windowsill. In the garden of night, alone, I will water my heart with tears — to make sure there will be flowers unfurling for you at dawn. — Ellen Krupich
November 22, 2024 at 10:47 AM