grace-mcquillanWhisper

American
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Snowglobe RealitiesI can remember just fine, / All those things that I hold dear. / What I cherish, what I yearn for,
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Dear Population of Social SpongesHalf-moons turn to full as my eyes flutter open / The white hot light is disorienting. / My fingernails are the first thing I notice
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I Need More QuartersI walk around from place to place / and I see beauty / and I cock my head
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What is the meaning of life?I am a useless being, / Really. / It's grim to think,
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Golden“It’s going to be a golden day”, / You’d say before you left / Every morning, I’d mourn for your return.
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The PearlBeads of water, like strings of pearls postponed in movement on my skin / Reflect light. / I watch, each new droplet hesitantly release and descend from my tangled hair.
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GreyWhen I get grey / Sight and sound will be distant / But perhaps this is for the best.
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GraduationIt’s coming to a close, / A chapter I’ve revisited from beginning to end, / In my mind all the moments
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Ungodly DeedRip me from my home, / Drag me along the asphalt / I’m begging you,
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A Simple GreetingAn arid thin breeze whips my back. / The dirt beneath my feet is brittle and cracked. / With each step dust envelops my toes and fills the grooves in my skin.
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