AN - What follows is an excerpt from a short story I am working on, this piece was inspired by the song Kyiv by Oksar Schuster. I felt like all the air, every spark of vivacity that lit up everyone around me, was depleted in me. My bulbs had blown, and I left in … Continue reading An experimental excerpt – Moths
Small but honest
Terrified of being left, But now I'm leaving you God, I miss you already Will you still visit? Don't leave Please.
My Fears
Unanswered questions and unspoken words, Out future exists in more than one world Buts it's terrifying Forever, or just for now But I love you - although I didn't know how, to Before I met you I didn't make plans, Now I've made dreams, what ifs, what could be Please don't let me down - … Continue reading My Fears
Sunrise glimpses through train carriage windows, Time to breathe, The green here's plastic No smoking Let's do something drastic Don't be stressed - take it easy And take me away From here.
Decay
Withering colors, in carbonated yellows Rusted green and foaming white, Bubbling leftovers of humanistic pursuit. Rotten corpses of artistic benevolence lining the streets. The scrunched up flesh of unfinished stories, Discarded as fear that their imperfect toxicity might scar a pure white page, Just a bag of waste. Wasted potential Wasted time Waste
My fingers are aching from watching the busied hands of a clock – I just don’t know if I can keep up anymore. I stretch out my cracking palms, bruised and bloodied. I only fought myself- but does that mean I won? The keyboard is broken. I thought that if I just pressed on … Continue reading
Runaway with me
Run away with me, Blue skies, green eyes, Think I, might need a change of scene, What I mean, is that summer’s fading Life’s a haze and, I miss the sun Please come and chase a dream With me.
Summer Day Sadnesses
Watching the world turn through a series of paint-marker windows, Of barely square houses, not homes, Drawn poorly and hung on the fridges of week-to-week mothers, With cashed checks strewn on the street, and fathers, all fucking deadbeat, Why do they always pack up and leave? Moments, passing in front of me. Houses all full … Continue reading Summer Day Sadnesses
Like Rocks onto the Shore
A single seashell, pinkened by the sweetness of the sun, Lay her simmering curves by the corals, before the dawn had begun. White gulls balanced the wind between their feathers high above, The water gushing between the sand and their feet, - she fallen deep in love. The chattering of corals left the air salty … Continue reading Like Rocks onto the Shore
Sunlight days, memories Aching for a feeling We chase the butterflies in our stomachs, Across yellow lawns, Maybe we’ll catch those little bugs, And spend the whole night talking.
Alicia Jones Poetry 