January stuffed me into
This tar pit pipe
If you could just take your knife from my lungs,
That heavy sob still resounding,
The unbalance has obliterated cosmos
Unspeakable Unraveling
I would sleep for hours…
Fall was the heralding scream
Sounding with the descending leaves
Played a taunting tune
Scoffing today
In us
The heart has grown weary of disrupting sobs
Veins turned vile green
Arteries clogged with dubiety
Love wheezes with a winter cough,
Growing harder to proclaim
Between labored gasps and effortful patience
Spring does not run happily forward
Rather, Sputters into our world of lukewarm passion
Midway in sullenness and bickering
It remains addled
New vines paralyzed before the renewal is even concieved
What jovial adoration reverbrated formerly
Has sunken with the palace
Built upon resolute devotion
And haunts all attemps to reconsile
The hope of a new day
Has long retreated
Freezing with the skin that is no longer touched.
Weakly crawling to beg at knees that have deserted me
I pummel below at the sight of your face,
Turned from me.
You will not weep in hopelessness
You will not weep
You will not
Turn to look at me.
How daringly chilly those eyes burn.
—
Jamie Williams grew up in Oneonta, AL. She started writing at the age of 11, and her work is mostly inspired by fiery love gone awry. She loves reading, the outdoors, animals, Italian food, and rock music. She currently resides in Virginia with her children and cats.
