Breanna Winn is fictional--
a composite character. She
follows the decaying poems of
unnoticed flies and rough
cut diamonds ****
in the rubber grooves of
adolescent sneakers.

Ignoring
and ignored all at once
scraping and grinding
each step of pressurized,
carbon against concrete
we walk down neighborhood
sidewalk with fossilized
fly pebbles
stuck in heel.  

Anthropomorphous dogs
walking people in woods,
forest, and dense city
jungles filled with Lord
of forgotten
flies swarming the air
and paving the ground.

Breanna silently,
carefully, narrates the life
of a drifting, morphing
black clad super-org
tribe.

Force is mechanically
easy to solve
like a heart squeezed
in a surgeon's gloved
hand deep in cracked chest

Rib cages dried bones
in High Plains of Reno
or was it White Sands of Nevada?

Nuclear blast equations
of forgotten love ancient hate
and modern little cheats among
the billion of us Forced
over seconds to leave
deep craters

How strange the integration
happens to give same the area
but different under curved ***!

Do we like long hot shafts
or voluminous D-cups?
H-bomb holes or a Grand Canyon?
A quick poke or grinding strokes
watered down over centuries?

The math's the same
sung in Smithery
in Bessie lilt
about a little sugar
in our bowl
about a hot dog
between our rolls

"Stop your foolin'
and drop somethin'
in my bowl"

God Brought A Beach Towel

  Written By: Breanna Womble



...

I’m starting to understand
The slight of hand
That it takes to see this world as an ocean
                                                So vast and deep
                                  With secrets to keep-
I spread love on like tanning lotion
                                        
(..) I forgot how the sun feels from this perspective
As my heart beats quick with/          
                             as if it’s,
                                                                         /To keep up with lost time.
I know now I hold the full Collective
all the while I stay and destroy the retina’s in my eyes.
                               This time around,
                                    Loving me is the new objective-
gazing at new found patience with what follows sunrise
                                                                      And left these sands of time-
                                                                      One grain left to fall amongst the Hour,
All this chaos I hold inside of me-
                                           In-spite of trees that Fear let tower

Ahead of me is too far gone
twin flames too, burned away...
Lake Eerie drowned our fire quickly/
                                                           a parted heart of two;
half-hearted sunsets shadowed days,
To the boy I thought I knew.



Do you suffocate with silence?
Do the sun-rays burn your eyes?

All this technicolor vision Love,
Colorblind through cobalt eyes’


(..) I know now of not tomorrow,
                                                          But sea, to my dismay;


                                                        
Salt lake kisses from Oklahoma/


                                                      ...Taste like soulmates in PA.




~Breanna Womble

You-
                        Lover of a thousand arms
                        lift me high above myself,
You-
        strong enough to find the strength in a lowered gate;
eternally holds lock and key inside of me.

And it’s You-
               keeper of mind;

       teaching one to know better at no benefit of his own;
                      how decisively deceptive of you/

                     so open and juxtaposed in my sight
             You, who calls my soul to love free;

You-
man of numbers;

          placing them in the stars so they project on every clock;
                               together ticking eternity;

           man who thinks more of others than he does himself;
                carefully crafting out the finest versions of me/

                 though think our thoughts are on opposition -
                  
                                                You.
How dare you?

        We have plotted forever without knowing it;
                     this whole entire universe and

                 You.

Can you query your deep decadence?

                    Healing my wounds from a far-
            time nor space measures a soul so boundless

                          You...carrier of divine grace

It Is You-
                       an auspicious gift from the Gods-
                       how precious is the powers that Be..

Does it surprise You?

                Millennia’s have past /
                                 circling back around,
                        I have found-

               who tastes like an eternal sweetness,
               one who bears both dark and light
                                      
                                     chooses only-
                                             You;
            give rise to the sun and nightfall to the moon
                    
             Keeper of dreams-

                              are apart of every. sole. reason/
      
                                                         ­      to wake up

  and love …

                                              You.


~Breanna Womble

This is the story of Felix Riley
An Irishman from County Cork
Conceived during the great famine
And delivered by the stalk
He was one of ten; 6 brothers, 3 sisters
All of whom he cherished
Both of his parents passed away
From starvation and cholera they perished.
His father was a peasant farmer
From the port town of Kinsale
Working every single day
To bring home bread and ale
He died in the summer of 47
A year that many did
His wife Breanna heartbroken
But from the kids she hid
Not long after, she died too
Taking with her 3 little chislers
Poor Felix Riley was left solitary
When split from his brothers and sisters
He learned to fend for himself
And then met his lovely wife Bria
He never saw his kin to that day
And probably wont again, he'd fear
Like his father he worked and worked
To bring home food for their little one
And one day hoped he could earn enough
To buy a table to eat it on
He worked every hour he physically could
Almost every one god sent
But every week when he got his envelope
The money was already spent
Never disheartened he loved his wife
And his little daughter too
He remained optimistic in any weather
And through tough times powered through
Alas his determination was futile
In the face of the aftermath of the blight
He died at a tender age of 26
After putting up a hearty fight

His story is one of over a million
Who's stories are somewhat hidden
From the books and lessons given in schools
Their telling is almost forbidden.

Know what you want
Know who u are, don’t u ever waste any time; little things like this will keep u by the finish line.
Time on this earth goes so fast, so quick, like when raindrops fall from the sky,
Love yourself immensely, and intensely
This will be your battle cry.
Hold your ground and find your purpose your dignity, morality, your hue;
This is the formula to living life anew.
Be kind, be courageous, and always understand
Life isn’t always given, and will never come as a demand/
Please, my dear child, believe me when I say;
Love will always be the hardest when not known when to walk away,
But love yourself, be yourself, have faith in you
This is the key for others to learn to love you too/
And at the end of the day
All the sorry in the world will never mend or keep,
The contempt you aim to feel when u lay down to sleep-
And please if they ask, don’t u ever dare,
Because hollowed out lovers are everywhere.

~Breanna Womble
4.24.18

Night

The night time comes like fire
Burning her with flames
She lays in bed just waiting
Until the light of day
The demons dancing around her in every sleepy thought
She can't escape the memories
In the back of her mind they haunt
Dark is for demons that waltz in her bed
Dark are the thoughts that are dancing in her head
Dark doesn't describe the feelings of terror
Like looking at yourself in a half broken mirror
Piece by piece, falling apart
She didn't deserve this, She has such a big heart
But the scars that cover it make a light that shines bright
Sometimes you can even see it shining in her eyes
For every dark day, comes a much brighter sky
Just stay strong my darling, the sun will always rise.

Breanna Dixon

There are things that we so desire;

Fragments of once could be’s left sizzling next to the wake of an open fire

A sore and unruly rest for those who bare no need to transpose,

A romantics lust for love is as sheer as the daydreamers dream I suppose.

We don’t confide the things that yearn in the hollowed depths of our soul;

That in which age and mature vastly inside us, for that they’ll never know-

And when given the chance one might never give in-

Because vulnerability is best when it’s bared in  hidden.

You can look in the eyes of another and see their truth revealed;

Their words yet still cascade fabrication of a world never revealed

We hide, we squander, in life’s most precious things,

But behind our synthetic candor; we all know why the caged bird sings



~Breanna Womble

2:01am

I sit here in complete silence
Nothing to see but green painted walls
The stories spreading around school
About how the green office is only for the
CRAZIES
I hear whispers but its nothing new
Every time I turn the corner is a whole
New false story i’ve never heard before
Funny how people just love to destroy others
Such an amazing world
Right? WRONG.
This is the last place i'd ever like to be
I know I’ve never been to hell
but it could just not possibly be
any worse than being here
This is just hell x10
So many false stories out there
In this cruel world that can and will
be the death of me, No these horrible
People will be the death of me
Funny how I'm told never to give up
But guess what IT ISN’T THAT EASY
When you've lost all your fight you'll understand
and you'll see everything just as i see
Poems at least help me express a few things
But trust me this isn't even the least
There is so much more to be said
But will i say it, No.
I remember when I was happy and very kind
But thats been stolen from me and I have no where
Else to turn besides my wrists
I understand it doesn’t sound so great but
I helps me take some of the pain away
Some pain taken away will each day will get me
though most of the pain I get loaded with each and everyday.

-Breanna J

Remembrance is the pitfalls of things we wish to not understand
When the towers come falling and all is lost in demand
The fragments and pieces of parts we wish to not see
I’m lying in a 6 ft ditch of denial and mistrust this can’t all be me.
There’s people looking down, people praying up and I’m silent in the words I failed to say
I’m frozen but thawed with the life I let wither away
We’ve got hours
We’ve got time
At least that’s what they say...
Tomorrow is not enough
Let’s live for today
...


~Breanna Womble
August 14th