Sarah McKeever Hitt : Writing

Push it aside.

Push it aside.

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


Push it aside Allow the wind to blow Hand me your idealistic nature I will keep it safe until you want it back If you want it back. I will show y..
Filthy little secret

Filthy little secret

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


You make me feel like a harlot when you do what you do those things that make even the most bawdy girls blush. You take away my modest decency r..
I chose love

I chose love

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


The worth of silence is lost on me I am not a believer of solitude because we are not cellular beings If we were, I would be able to go five minut..
back porch

back porch

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


You have evoked in me a class like system where I am the pauper and my self control is evil. I do not listen to it. I blame you for making me s..
flinching shoulder blades.

flinching shoulder blades.

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


Embers growing as the fire burns just a little lower hang on for dear life, and watch out for falling sky The rest of the best have all gone home no..
I could be a coward.

I could be a coward.

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


Baby, I am sorry the morning was killer and the traffic was causing me to question whether I wanted to live here anymore but that isn't much of a..
Lightning bolts

Lightning bolts

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


Hold the simplicity of my hand and let got the complexities of your head this is a dream we are in. Instantly drawn together with potions and moti..
Perfection

Perfection

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


Perfection from the way the trees yield to the wind and the sun makes the blossoms awaken to the rain that quenches the thirsty grass perfection ..
coffee cup, stubbed toes and the broken spoken English.

coffee cup, stubbed toes and the broken spoken Eng..

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


The gleaming glimmering rays The dirty glass and the half pulled shades The twigs, the leaves and the broken bottles Lead me straight to this. T..
Which I really wasn't

Which I really wasn't

A Poem by Sarah McKeever Hitt


(A brush against my arm that makes the hair on my neck stand at attention) A trip down memory lane Your eyes met mine today. Did I look li..