Jessie: Poems

Unstable

Jessie Nov 2010

Unstable

I live each day on this tightrope--
Teetering back and forth,
Knowing that at any moment,
I could stumble and
F
a
  l
   l
    d
     o
      w
       n
        .
         .
          .

If I try my best to
Stay
Very
Still
I will never get to the other side.

But if I take one step forward,
I will fall.

I know I will,
For I have always been a clumsy person--
On the inside
And the outside.

My legs are shaking,
My arms keep swinging wildly

Up
      and
Down,

Up
      and
Down

Don't fall don't fall don't fall!!

Why am I even here in the first place?
I don't remember how I got here,
I don't know where I came from...
(Where the hell am I even going?)

So here I am,
Trying my best to keep my
Balance,  and wondering

If falling is really
Such a bad thing.

Until the Inkwell ran dry

Jessie Dec 2010

Until the Inkwell ran dry

--I can't really tell you when it happened--
each day is just a blur--
maybe it was yesterday
or the day before
      or the day before
            or the day before...

that Voice--
that Thing--
bound
around
my wrist
a string
and
dragged me

(--screaming,fighting,writhing,clawing--)

into a darkness
where he stabbed
my brain with
my very own
writing pen.

unwritten words
poured out and evaporated,
floating into the
emptiness in which
echoed the Thing's
                        laughter.

my arm reached up--
without control--
and pulled the pen
out from my skull--

with blood as ink I
tattooed the air--
while the monstrous Thing
tugged at my hair--

my soul hung from a distance-
hanging from the sky--
with every word that I wrote,
I heard her let out a cry--

YES!!
SCREAM FOR ME!!
SCREAM!!

YOU'RE MINE
AND
ALWAYS

WILL

BE

It kept me writing Its poem all through the night,
until It had no more words left to drip from my hand--

until the inkwell ran dry.

meh

untitled.

Jessie Nov 2010

untitled.

I think I broke a poor boy's heart today.
I guess that's all there really is to say.

iambic pentameter, how i love thee...

Waltz of the Cosmos

Jessie Oct 2010

Waltz of the Cosmos

Tell me what you see
While watching the universe
Dancing around you.

If you stop leading,
Then the intricate patterns
Of the stars lead you.

You are a part of
A most beautiful and pure
Waltz of the cosmos.

You are but stardust
Lighting up the universe
And moving mountains.

You alone can choose
To lead the dance or follow
But you must still dance.

meh.

When I Die

Jessie Sep 2010

When I Die

When I die,
I don't want to be buried.
I don't want a casket.
I don't want a tombstone.

I don't really want much of a funeral.
I simply want whomever desires
To say something about me
To do so
(Whether it's good, bad, or funny).

I want to be burned
In a cardboard box,
And as I'm being cremated,
I want someone
To read a poem that I have written
For that very occasion.

When I'm all turned to ashes,
I want them to put me
In a cheap little container
And throw my ashes into the wind.
Maybe over a field, a forest, or the ocean--
Whatever, so long as it's windy there.

Mostly,
I don't want my loved ones to have a
Specific place to visit me

Because
I want to be the one
Who visits my loved ones

So I can give them kisses
When the wind
Brushes their cheeks.

i wonder if i can put this poem in my will...

words written on the back of a journal

Jessie Feb 2011

words written on the back of a journal

can you be inspired
without imagination?
can you imagine
without intelligence?

can one dance
without music?
can one write
without words?

literally, words written on the back of a journal.

You're the only thing that keeps me afloat

Jessie Nov 2010

You're the only thing that keeps me afloat

There is a white hot flame that burns in my chest,
Boiling my blood,
Sending bubbles to my fingertips.
I pop them, one by one, on your skin.

I'm drowning in this blazing ocean,
Reaching out for your touch,
Feeling the flames consume my body,
But I'm only grasping air.

Can you not see this water rising,
Filling my lungs, and bringing me down?
Do you not see my hands reaching out to yours?

I see you standing on the beach,
Looking out to the stars,
I know you see them,
But is it really too dark to see me?

— The End —