i’d like to think i’m a shadow

with fingertips like knives

and eyes like buttons,

but i’m more like a sound.

not a good one.

not a sweet one,

but a sound, nonetheless.

i sound like struggle,

like pain and confusion.

a crash.

a shriek.

a whine.

a wince.

like a storm

or a volley,

but a sound, nonetheless.


light bulbs

you leave your hair on my pillow

and your smell on my sweater.

we laugh about all the thoughts we share

and how you think i’ll get better,

but this isn’t a fairytale

with crowns and carnations.

still, you dream the same tale.

your mind, the train.

my ocd, the station.

our voices are light bulbs,

busted and shattered.

our hands are the answer.

we just don’t know they matter

– js


sun burn

take me on a walk,

but please don’t ask me to talk.

this summer is an endless novel

full of twists and turns.

i’m bruised and blue underneath,

but red on the outside from too many sun burns.

i slept on the floor

with bad coffee and old socks.

i slammed the back door

before locking the lock.

– js

rain smell

there’s lightning at my window

and thunder in the floorboards.

fresh rain smell,

as i walk to my car later.

i think i drank too much,

but my friends say it’s just enough.

you pull the sheets off my skin,

warm and humid

from previous sins.

i’m glad that you’re here,

but i won’t be staying long.

in a time that’s short and soon,

i’ll be moving right along.

– js

light beams

there’s dust in the light beams

and flowers in my hair.

i paint my nails and show them now,

too tired to care.

dancing in my room,

jumping on my bed.

all the lights turned off,

ella’s songs in my head.

i’m anxious, but i’m ready.

i’m confused, but i’m proud.

always staying calm.

how’s that cliché saying go again?

“it’s always darkest before the dawn.”

– js