Jamie Ramsay
Bio
Every word is chosen from my throat, in the moments I feel too human.
I am your guide into the sinkhole.
Stories (31/0)
Control of light, control of sound.
Inside the bewildered, forgetful laughter, in between yawns. Sitting, with the back of the chair in between my legs, we quietly whispered about bodies, about minds, about the language our body speaks, about how the mind translates, in a whole new language,
By Jamie Ramsay4 months ago in Poets
Words Chapter 1
I. It was something that contradicted itself, over and over and over again. At the time, my arms and legs were smaller versions of myself, and my fingers and toes were even smaller versions of myself; I liked to think of my body as a plan going accordingly. I liked to think of my brain as skipping ropes. These were things I used to describe my mental state. I was stretchy. We took our first unbundled breath, long and bendy. This was before I decided that grass came before the seeds, and trees came before the soil.
By Jamie Ramsay4 months ago in Poets
The Sky Split In Half
Tonight made itself known inside of my stomach, whatever I swallow doesn’t sit right. This morning and my body are two different things, but this evening and my body are the same. My mind disrupts the water and what it’s supposed to do, my mind interrupts what people are really thinking, my mind puts all these things together when they don’t belong there at all. The water is separate from the people and the people are separate from me. Am I allowed to find peace even if the people I know see me breathe for it in a place so open? If I speak to the water will they cringe at what I say? Will they hear what I ask?
By Jamie Ramsay4 months ago in Poets
