Can’t ever get warm inside, can’t it ever get me warm inside? I go feasting on dreams that fail to fill my belly, I go feasting on conversations and spinning discourses that only turn me dizzy, some people are more down for a debate than a decision; in this divide, there’s dreamers or there’s doers,Continue reading “Winterbound”
Tag Archives: night
Glitter/Slaughter, Guts/Sparkle
You know how Harley Quinn sees violence and it’s not ugly, It’s all sparkles and flowers and fountains and furbished mirth upon a javelin? It’s crazy how we all compartmentalize violence like that, it’s crazy how commonplace death is, when I was ten I promised never to hurt another living thing but then had toContinue reading “Glitter/Slaughter, Guts/Sparkle”
Like a Vibe in a First Draft
This poem is something I wrote at the beginning of the 1st draft of So Speaks the Ruinous Light (the book I just published… Which can be found at this link
The Book Is Ready
Remember when I was like, “Ah yes, I’m aiming to have this book published by the end of August?” Then remember how that didn’t happen? Well here we are almost a month later, and So Speaks the Ruinous Light is finally ready! Today I skimmed through the proof copy, then approved it for distribution onContinue reading “The Book Is Ready”
Cavalier Spirit
How much a soul worth? Well easy, we just say a spirit worth a bag of M&M’s, but when shipped from halfway ‘cross the world and in a foreign script, that bag’s a little less, easy to forget. Age makes ’em stale, makes ’em trash. A bag of blue-eyed M&M’s matters more, but a bagContinue reading “Cavalier Spirit”
to break a curse
The rats and I had agreed I would break their curse and they’d let me free. Of course, they never
I keep calling for this rain
If you quell the pain, prickles remain, and I feel so detached from the past, I could be a stranger in the memories of danger, like they burn a different skin. I wanna heal from the thunder squeal, but my midnight brain plays the game “How can we twist imagination’s eye to warp this pictureContinue reading “I keep calling for this rain”
to the 17th floor of paradise
Do you remember that night on the 17th floor of paradise? How the elevator took us up for like forever, but in the hotel room glass, the city steel still loomed above us and the clouds seemed nowhere closer? It was there you told me you wondered if God was even real. Because if heContinue reading “to the 17th floor of paradise”
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,
floorboards unheard
Memorize where there’s creaks in the floor, trying not to wake nobody or pour these noises to the boards for the downstairs neighbors, I should go to bed get these eyes who want to cry some rest but I confess I’m terrified tonight, every night– not of the dark itself but of being blind toContinue reading “floorboards unheard”
Jordyn Saelor 