Tipping, por Evelyn Jey

Evelyn Jey

Tipping

Evelyn Jey

Suspension is funny.

Spiderweb–

Pendulum–

Noose.

Mindly, ungodly things.

The hot air and trees

Are heaven;

This abrupt brick

(Blue with light)

Is hell,

And I

Am in terminal velocity

Falling quick

Unlacing my Converse

And tying them into knots,

Aching for the world above,

Rushing into worlds below,

Missing the clouds

Missing the ground

Throbbing

With need

For anything solid

For anything that isn’t falling

And god

I miss the feeling of flying.

Otras obras de Evelyn Jey...

Walk With Me Into Oblivion

When I can no longer write, When I have not the strength To put fingers to keys, or Ink to thinly sliced wood When I go silent

You Alone

Take me, All of me, Into your strong freckled arms Small from the trees Brown from the sun

Insignificant

Why must the universe burn So big and Bright, stealing all the Attention when a Perfectly good

Broken Yellow Beads

Broken yellow beads Spill all over the floor She looks over her shoulder And my stomach sinks. Hello, I say.

In Case Anyone Hasn’t Told You Lately

You Are Drop-dead gorgeous All of your “imperfections” Are simply little pieces of your b…

Some

Some nails are meant to be painted… Bright colors of turquoise and bla… Some wrists are meant to be decora… With bracelets of gold and silver. Some eyes are meant to be embellis…

Take Me Someplace Else

Red steams under pressure Engines eternally shifting underne… I wish I knew where I was going I wish I knew where I have been For I have lost my memory.

They Will Never Be

When she walks with her, I often disappear Though fate will dictate me To let alone the ones Who are actively vanishing.

Illegal Birthing

Everything burst open. Ripping, Tearing, Junetime and Maytime When the moths exploded

Yin-Yang

Perfect S. not spherical You draw the curve Just right or else it isn’t what i… Was supposed to be the Dao. The Tao. The path the black and w…

Somethings

Something coughs inside me, Sharp and scratchy, Crude and weak I feel a cold black finger Pressed up hard against

Tearstreaked

You, With your hair up in a ponytail. Stop, I love you. You are too pretty to cry.

Infantile

Sometimes, I am lonely. I stare out the window And wish for the world. Not to share it,

Sunthought

What if We loved like We have never before Felt worthless?

Summer Tastes Like

Summer tastes like Rain, and running And crying into wood, Like smiling but Never meaning it–

Evelyn Jey

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Otras obras de Evelyn Jey...