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Jesska Jones Mar 2015
Listen between the notes

Read between the lines

Taste beyond the tongue

See beyond the guise

Floating on a surface, solid waters echo as my feet fall into the soul of the universe.

Crimson bloodshot eyes are rising in the sky, tired aching bones shake and question why.

Lay your head down amongst the grass that grows in the valley of the broken.

Stay rooted in the soil on the ground that holds the ashes of your kin.
Jesska Jones Mar 2015
sights of life
recede in smoke
as haggard horses
fight and choke

to catch their breath
amongst the fumes
of days that play
psychotic tunes

pull a teaspoon
from your hair
and start to
scoop the kind

of tiny dancing
clips of hope
that fight to
save your mind

— The End —