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Laura Jones Mar 2017
ThE worlD DIsagrEeS

Too late now.
Laura Jones Feb 2017
I did see
Not hear
Nor feel
But I did see
For a moment it was
Not long but enough
Enough to see
What I did see,
For I did see the shapes
Each curve and edge
The soft, the rough
Each line and path
The blue, the red
That is what I did see
For that short moment in time
I did see you.
Laura Jones Feb 2017
We live in lives full of lies,
A few words that sleep beneath your rough, cold skin, waiting.
Waiting and watching as your world changes colour; obnubilates and conceals the white.
All the while you are oblivious, too caught up in a web contrived of pure mystery.
Woven by predujicious circles of black.
Did you hear that?
Laura Jones Jan 2017
Inhumane humanity
We have created.
Laura Jones Jan 2017
To say that you love me would make me an Ersatz being,
A substitute
An inferior entity woven like nylon;
To be used as a shirt.
Nothing more than to cover another's body
To hide them in synthetic fibres,
A spurious masks.

I never get tired of the perpetual winding
Of untrue nature.
I am unsound like polyester,
No soft cotton.
Unpick my threads
Each stitch as rough as my skin.
Pull out my stuffing
And cut through my back.  
                                        Throw me to the side.

Then buy a new doll.
Laura Jones Jan 2017
Parce que.

Un mot simple que nous ne pouvons pas simplement étendre sur.

Mais pourquoi?
Laura Jones Jan 2017
Letter 'C'
Letter 'S'; compress.
Wrap it to the left side,
Now to the right.
Fibres sooth my skin,
Rough ****** against integument.
Take it from below me,
Kick it away.
My neck and jaw hold me;
Rapturous, my head is high.
6,000 Newtrons force elongated time.
Ancestry is blocked,
Origin destroyed.
Only twenty minutes,
Trachea gripped, cervical vertebrae;
I'm not kneeling.
Convulvulus arvensis
My roots are deep, hard to suppress.
Attenuated and twisted,
Sheathed around others;
Proceed to ween suoport.
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