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JV Knight Aug 2019
The Hallows
The Hollows
Like a pit inside a peach,
If you could see them
Resting peacefully together.

Like shifting sands in Hidalgo
Gradual rise and fall
The fall being:
A gradual graceful shape
At the bottom of the dune.
Where I can lay my head
and witness the winds whipping around me.
Blades, then part of skin which hammocks my cheek, Sandwiched by vertebrae.
I think I’ll take another bite.
And lay at the bottom of the dune
  Jul 2016 JV Knight
C M Lane
Emptiness Is

Palms covered in little crescents
Your fingernails digging in to distract you
From the fact that your ribs are a cage
Without a bird.
  Jun 2016 JV Knight
Sad Case
Dress me up just like a queen.
Make me so pretty.
Wear high heels.
Paint my nails.
In some pretty pink.
Make me look pretty.
But in the end.
I realize.
This isn't me.
Not who I'm supposed to be.
I put on jeans and a ugly shirt.
I paint my nails in some gruesome black.
Take off my heels and put on flats.
Just look at me.
I'm back.
  Jun 2016 JV Knight
Walt Whitman
O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?


That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
JV Knight Oct 2014
Dear God,
I'm sorry for my wrongdoings. I fail again and again. Well, there's a part of me that's sorry, and there's a part of me that's not. But you know.
                                      You know every part.
You lurk on me like the shadows of the vultures as I sit here. This plateau gives way to the crumbling rock of a steep abyss leading to nowhere. A place wild; cruel; punishing.

Maybe it's not for humans. Maybe all this is not what you wanted.

I sit here on this flat plane of earth—sometimes in the center,
and sometimes teetering on the edge of the abyss, with tufts of dust wafting up from my legs as I sit down, like angels fluttering, yelling from a silent world,
Warning me away from here.
There are no war cries or flinging catapults. No horses screeching in pain. No iron weapons orbiting towards my skull.
Only the arid desert wind across my lips. So light, yet so heavy.
Augmenting the silence.
enveloping my solitary physical mold.
Highlighting the emptiness.
There's an entangled sense--
Sorrowful emptiness and peace. It hangs like an electrical charge. unbalanced.
My head hangs, eyes projected towards a pair of tan leather boots on a pair of feet that happen to be mine. The wind blows. My eyelids shut, feeling the sting of salt and soil.
My heart gives in like an imploding star, and the remains cave inward. Deep into the abyss
between my ribs. Deep into the warmth of the body that was once mine. I fold in on myself, and now rest.
The poem's purpose is to expose how I felt at that time, and examine it. NOT meant to promote depression or other icky feelings. Just to bring them to light. ~<3~
JV Knight Sep 2014
Coming home--wet and cold
With sore feet.
My insides match my outward appearance.
Peeling off my layers,
And collapsing into bed.
It hugs around so perfectly--(the bed)...
I embrace the sinking sensation.    Sink,   Sink,
                                     Morph,   Morph,
  It's no longer about me, and my separation from the rest of the world.
I don't have to feel the separateness
                                                    ever again.
     It feels great
to feel insignificant.
     Nothing unusual or confusing...
             And nothing to be criticized.
                 Just the meldings of the world and who "I" am.
                               Disappearing and becoming re-birthed
                 Into a place of different feeling. A different kind of being.
                                                             . . .
              ...My insignificance is what makes me feel special sometimes.

                                                    ­        . . . .

                                            ~I want to be tucked away~
                                ~In everything that is quiet and kind.~
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