Out past the blinking lights of electric existence, far beyond the polluted horizons- A single cry echoes across the clamouring earth. From the dirtied, used, ruined bellies of haggard mistakes falls an angel. Never has anything purer graced the soil upon which that miracle lays- For this glorious moment, all of human filth, destruction, hatred, … Continue reading Children Of Men
lonely
Tired
Sat down at a creaking desk, With a broken pen and rusty hands, I write this down; The draft from the window gives my skin a texture, My coffee is cold. It’s raining outside again - I’m yawning once more Huddled in a borrowed jumper, I’ve almost found the right words – But not … Continue reading Tired
‘Lonely People Are Always Up In The Middle Of the Night’
Staring out up into the abundance of stars and making wishes between my visible breaths, Watching how my whispered words fogged up the window- Then disappear like thoughts, My hands are empty, and the fingertips are cold, Pressing them gently against my skin- sending shivers like ripples over a calmed sea. My favourite book lies … Continue reading ‘Lonely People Are Always Up In The Middle Of the Night’
Nothing
Your acrid breath swims across my soft neck, Scratching at my swollen cheek. Your stinging words drift like dust into my closed eyes, Catching in my clumped lashes- I cannot see Your fleshy hands crawl beneath my papery skin, Whilst cold violets bloom over broken veins. Your sweaty grip breaking brittle bones, Snapping ribs and … Continue reading Nothing
Alicia Jones Poetry 