Day: Oct 21, 2022

What if the forests that I called my own when I was sixteen

Were really playing the long game, coming after my spleen?

I felt like every place I had loved had betrayed my dreams,

So, I packed my bags and left my home when I was eighteen.

What if the voices that I chase through snake-filled meadows

Are leading me towards the ledge and days full of night terrors?

Each story I sell for a dime comes back to read my prose,

But I do not have the strength to stay out of these shadows.

What if the street that I live on takes on my name and spite

And ruins my reputation like I once ruined my own might?

I can see my own footsteps leaving marks, rosy and bright,

And I am not sure if I should erase them or follow the light.

-Jackie