Jayne

You are…

You are a poet not only because of the vision you have and the dreams you seek but because you write them down. (Yes a pink book.) Edgy

You Are

You are a poet because of the way you need to document your life. Skin Show

To find something to say everyday to find beauty in a fabric covored chair or a one sided conversation on giving directions held by strangers My wedding ring has burned my ring finger and left a line of blisters but I keep wearing it because it’s pretty and pink metaphorically that could mean something MyContinue reading “Will write for candy”

Dreamers

Don’t let them get you down I know you probably supported them and their dreams so much so that you lost yourself And now that you’re reaching for the stars it seems they are intentionally avoiding your endeavors That the support you provided isn’t reciprocated That’s ok cuz this is your fucking dream DreamContinue reading “Dreamers”

Passionate Seekers

Empty sex, soulless endeavors and failed attempts at trying to find ourselves somewhere buried beneath all the shit we were drowning in. He called me a bitch in front of the kid and I didn’t like that so I reached out and socked him right in the chin. “I don’t need this. Why am I evenContinue reading “Passionate Seekers”

Wrinkled

I’ve stopped using dressers My clothes are shoved into a trunk I wear them wrinkled and uncoordinated But I did my hair and painted my nails that must balance it out in some way -Saschia Johnson Painting Nature

Lilies

While the shaded lilies stand rigid I under the sun thaw Swaying with the wind We rooted in the same soil Drinking in the same nutrients Me pounded by friction Withered wilted until again I bloom -Saschia Johnson Matters Of Love

#30 Colorful Walls

I feel so spun up these words taste like wallpaper The blank walls have turned colorful and talkative they chatter and I chatter back -Saschia Johnson My Fairy

Jam Jars

There was this world my escape but the demand for my attention was too great fantasies nudged me awake all hours the picturesque garden and nipping faries and the words they poisoned my proper shapes in such a fantastic way in a way hope was made toxic And so I tilled but not for longContinue reading “Jam Jars”

How Close

Two fingers a measure of how close or how far I’m am from checking this off as one more unfinished assignment -Saschia Johnson