Of tears, exclusion, pain
among the darkness
sometimes comes the ray
from lives of tumult
the turning of pages
pen to paper to survive memory
with this, books are made
I. The escalator pulls me above ground, a maudlin monotony of movement that cycles tens hundreds thousands of times a day. I wait for the moment the ridges of the moving stairwell will halt the tips of my boots so I can fall on my face. What would it be like to have strangers walk […]
via “Escalate” by Caroline Sipio — THE CITY KEY
For Chad Ostrowski So many nights I walk suburban streets alone. Porch lights send their luminosity through trees, allowing me to write between the lines of my journal. I can write anything about the sun setting over Central Pennsylvania, describe the burnt orange hair of a girl I once knew or wanted to know, write […]
via “Beyond Power Lines” by Kyle Carrozza — THE CITY KEY
Yes, death does come for all
for every summer,
there must be a fall
but we always leave
a part of us in the world
and the part of the world
which was loved
in the immortal heart.
She welcomed the end
of summer’s oppression,
the pressure under, over, everywhere
having cooked her from within.
In summer, the sun weighed
down, disheartening from dreams,
while the wandering, distracted mind
meandered, wished to be someplace else,
wished to be free, somewhere else
where she was listened to, was esteemed,
someplace else where she never had to fear
being suspect for being something
less than ideal. That place she wanted to welcome
on hot skin like a perfectly cool breeze.
Searching in cities, walking aimlessly,
looking for the past, she breathed in
remembering what she used to be,
believing, supportive, sweet.
Scanning faces futilely, she braced herself
for the realization that they really
weren’t the same faces though they appeared to be.
The ghosts haunting her wouldn’t easily
be excised, the torture of what could have been
will always continue to stay within.
When you think it can’t,
that it won’t come
with nothing in sight,
just night in front of you,
it do, it do come through,
the smallest strand
of light in darkness
just barely enough
to see you through.