Jamie Ramsay

Joined June 2022

0 stories

Bio

Every word is chosen from my throat, in the moments I feel too human.

I am your guide into the sinkhole.

Stories (35/0)

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 Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
The Dark Falls Different Here
I lost my earphones in the rush of a renovation. I’m sleeping on my bathroom floor tonight. I love my bathroom floor. The dark falls different here.
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
The Real World
We brought up high school, my sister and I, and I relived it for the first time in five years. How am I twenty two years old?
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
You’re Not So Gathered In My Head Anymore
I’ve assigned gratitude to the fall evenings I will spend in my sister’s living room, the jazz from the record player, jumping behind our relaxed, diluted conversation.
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
I Wondered You Back
I wonder how many years are in front of me without you. I wonder what it will feel like to forget the sound of your voice, when the static in my chest dies, if it will happen slowly, if I will notice. I wonder if I will ever ride the train and fly past the same landmarks and not think of you. Burrard station in the rain.
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
The Open
“I can hear it in your voice, “ I won’t say, “it’s because it’s early, the coffee is cold, my throat is still raw.” Today my skin feels cold, like dew on grass, my soul underneath, insignificant.
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
My Home Still Exists The Way It Was, Somewhere.
A mansion. In this dream, I am cleaning a mansion. It’s my old home, the old road. I’m vacuuming the hallway to my childhood room. The house is empty, the world is abandoned, I’m roads and roads away, just the way I used to dream of this house when I lived here..
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
The Seasons Are Sweeping Through
The seasons are sweeping through my room like I left the patio door wide open. I'm sad to leave behind these walls I’ve just recently become friends with.
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
The Next Chapter
I want to write a book about someone else. That starts with the night in your car, my hand out the window, the rain like small pebbles flying backwards.
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
Bed Sheets, Easy Rain
I missed you today. I think it was because I woke up early, after a full night of sleep, to a cold pillow case against my cheek, a cold morning, an insecurity in my heart that feels like sick nostalgia. Snoozing my alarm for five minutes, and then five more. The insecurity that belongs to a new job and not knowing where I belong.
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
Listen to the wind
I shouldn’t have had coffee. It’s day three of this tiredness in my chest, it turns into a tree branch, ready to snap in the wind.
By Jamie Ramsay8 months ago in Poets
A Bowl of Cereal After a Night at the Bar
In the restaurant, sitting at the bar, I watch them as I wait to run my drinks. She’s sleepy, they don’t speak, I know they will go home and put on the tv, wrap themselves in a blanket, they are comfortable like that. Something about her jacket reminds me of my mum when she was married to my dad. Something about how late it is, how they tuck in their stools and she yawns, I imagine they’re going home to a home like that.
By Jamie Ramsay9 months ago in Poets