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jillian-jesserPoems
shirelles monday night alone in a big house light the candles another one of my rituals born one hour, dead the next to make room for other prayers postures pen tips but the way candles flicker in the sweet soul is not another ritual warm life to the tune of golden notes swimming through once bleak      once empty once impure        air and suddenly, I am baptized more than I ever was in that sterile, dead chlorine     more than spent hymns in drafty cathedrals        so, the sound lives. my bed would tilt            at twelve years old I'd wake                startled of the                        psychic death spread like bodies after             a paid for war I'd scream like the cats               fighting by the window at my aunts house                I would huddle with my childhood                      hiding from the puberty that stalked me like a jungle cat                the mind reeled with my spent pulse and                  at night                         under shamed                    covers                                  bitten fingertips the white light            on the street                               looking on
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 2:30 AM UTC
rituals
shirelles monday night alone in a big house light the candles another one of my rituals born one hour, dead the next to make room for other prayers postures pen tips but the way candles flicker in the sweet soul is not another ritual warm life to the tune of golden notes swimming through once bleak      once empty once impure        air and suddenly, I am baptized more than I ever was in that sterile, dead chlorine     more than spent hymns in drafty cathedrals        so, the sound lives. my bed would tilt            at twelve years old I'd wake                startled of the                        psychic death spread like bodies after             a paid for war I'd scream like the cats               fighting by the window at my aunts house                I would huddle with my childhood                      hiding from the puberty that stalked me like a jungle cat                the mind reeled with my spent pulse and                  at night                         under shamed                    covers                                  bitten fingertips the white light            on the street                               looking on
#music#paranoia#puberty
jillian-jesser
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jillian-jesser
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 2:30 AM UTC
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