nature – Page 4 – Jordyn Saelor

dear dystopia of it all

I don’t break all at once, I erode into dust, sands of insanity carve sandstone sculptures (oh so pretty), dear dysmorphia,

Silence of the things

Eyes watched us from the sparse trees, belonging to bodies too still to distinguish from the dappled shadows

Every Seed/a World

My body is an earth of liquid with its oceans rising, the cool detachment apathy is melting

The tips of my toes drown in the bathtub do you think hawks get lonely, when their main relationship is predator eats prey? a hawk, a pigeon, and a hummingbird flock into a bar my roommate’s getting on my nerves, taking out her day job on me if this book flops, what’ve I got toContinue reading “frag”

The Road Signs to Progress Say:

And the road signs home say: speed limit thirty-five, next turn to Donner Drive, no parking any time. And the glare through the window’s seducing a headache, while the a/c won’t blast air cool enough to keep the sweat from swathing my back across the leather chair. And this concrete wasteland keeps expanding, speed limitContinue reading “The Road Signs to Progress Say:”

Veteran at Depression

I’m a veteran at depression though I never asked to be, what a nice metaphor for being at war in my mind,

Fairy Dairy, Fairly Vicious

Fairy dairy, fairly vicious vegetations and blaze. Very scary, barely delicious dedications can’t phase me. So I will grow out of the enchanted golden grove where tiny goats on ladybug back roam, to one day tease my tongue over the spiny mountainsides of gumball earth wadding my yawning mouth. *** find my published novel atContinue reading “Fairy Dairy, Fairly Vicious”

Perfection-whism

Sometimes I feel I have to present my bestest self just for someone to take notice, and if nobody does I just gotta try harder. I just gotta cut sharper through the apathy, trickle a clever-er metaphor into someone’s heart like suddenly their veins will go “Oh, I understand.” But sometimes, I need to breakContinue reading “Perfection-whism”

May my rage sustain me

I don’t know how to make sense of the world I don’t know how to cure it, like water seeping through my hands all I’m left with is a hope a drop drying out my skin, collective action wrecked in factions another poem added to the archive fury uphold this perseverance is my existence resistanceContinue reading “May my rage sustain me”

Wisdom of the Ancients

If I could go back to my prime with all I know now, maybe I could really accomplish something. Make something of my joyous name, make this laughing spell between us stay the same. But what is my “prime”? Seven years old, innocent, playing games of succession? Eleven, on the cusp of depression? Older, myContinue reading “Wisdom of the Ancients”