I’m lost in the clouds reality swirls into a blur of colors while Hope flits in and out like a restless cat How do I touch down? Toes wiggling with Two feet on the ground -Saschia
Author Archives: Jayne
A Distant Symphony
There’s this tiny space inside me. It has a tiny door with a button handle. A button you’d sew on a shirt. It was a fancy gold one. Round and shiny. I could hear music playing from the other side so I got on all fours and placed my ear right up against it. TheContinue reading “A Distant Symphony”
Puddle of Life
Life leaked out my finger tips It was a sloppy puddle of mush leaving only a carcass of skin slabbed on bone Like a chicken on a cheerful walk to the slaughterhouse emptied mindless and tired -Saschia
Bed time writing
Going from letter to letter Eyes opened one minute Closed the next. What’s real and why are sugar plums So amazed by my androids buttons
Pulled Tight
Full of conflict pulled tight from the holes in my ears I do but I don’t I would But should I I don’t know why humans do these things Must we know If I don’t should I make it up? Should I choose a side This is when my values tap me on the noseContinue reading “Pulled Tight”
Just one more inch
So close that’s usually how I do Not usually you hit the mark Or Right on I hear So close You were this close If only you made it just one more inch Maybe living will be my talent The one thing I did right They’ll Mention it in my eulogy As if I masteredContinue reading “Just one more inch”
It’s speaking to me
Mid sleep checklist incomplete Dreaming of writing this While skating and collecting snowflakes in my pocket I’m with my old boss looking for the next word It’s underneath the ice and as long as we keep moving they’ll appear Slowly we place each word one after the other What we build here makes complete senseContinue reading “It’s speaking to me”
Passion
I bite my lip with hope of a kiss That may never arrive I believe in it Like a white Christmas Or three bowls of porridge It’s fleeting these days I haven’t been able to catch hold
A Writer’s Wish
Numb to it all My world slipt away Was it mine This foreign body of water deserted and dripping of new substance Maybe divined maybe cursed Cure me of my ailments Feed me your wine but allow me a foot on the ground A toe? A finger? -Saschia
It’s all here
Listen to the wind and the piano key floorboards and the breaths of the sleeping Some are caught and the missed ones as silent as the answer It’s all here in the room with me -Saschia Johnson
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