Poetry – Page 50 – Jayne.press

I will stand on the shoulders of my enemies To place the angel delicately a top my Christmas tree Their selfish acts beside mine Only my acts so deeply rooted by my own ancestors That they have become a catapult An explosion of sticky wet truth Like an orgasm at just the right time IContinue reading

The Art of Letting Go

My head spins like a top The rush The drop The world let go of me -Saschia

Chick-A-Dees

The mush inside my head is no good I’m losing altitude or is it depth I’m losing I’m trying to gather my chick-a-dees and I just can’t seem to find them or maybe I’m looking for my marbles who knows I’m going to keep looking -Saschia

Softened

Stretched too thin I stiffen My skin hard as rock My mind static as a telephone in the wind I rest in a fetal shape as Waters rush around me A let them I let them rush a by til my brain gets better service And my skin softens again -Saschia

Oops

Next time Next time Next time You don’t need to understand Right now -Saschia

Seasons

I sank into a picture perfect fantasy But now, The memories are flooding back The habitual reminders Of why I stopped fighting Why I slowly loosened my grip Why I let go I clinched my empty fists And off went the leaf from my branch It descended in a less elegant manor than I sawContinue reading “Seasons”

Their Togetherness

Their togetherness relies on their a push to love awkwardly It relies on sex and fear Silence and distance Those things push them together It doesn’t rely solely on her Or solely on him Not even rules or religion It’s the bad little things That make them Them -Saschia

Under The Knife

Fear’s shadow lingers in the crack below the door I keep that door locked Even though sometimes it swings wide open I pace by it from time to time But I don’t even touch the handle I hate to twiddle my thumbs While I think up the worst case scenario I don’t even like toContinue reading “Under The Knife”

Sacred

They try so hard to keep my sanity They close my knees with two fingers From each hand As if I’m a doll at a table set for tea. -Saschia

It Was Good

First thing today, is to figure out how he will love her. He loves her, that isn’t the question. But how would he show her? Yesterday, it was with a small note, I love you handwritten on it that hid underneath her tea cup. A teacup he picked out for her and filled with blackContinue reading “It Was Good”