just another writer with too many cats
twitter: @jillianspiridon
he doesn’t need to wear a cape to show that he’s saving lives with every shift he takes, every moment he labors over bodies ailing,
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Poets
It’s funny how women never tell each other that it would be so much better if they smiled. Too often it’s a man trying to curry favor—
don’t speak to the tempest unless you’re wishing for ill upon the house of your father don’t wish for storms to come,
“love will save the world” became the mantra in a world of positivity lectures run rampant, and Cupid should really have known better
the light and the shadow, mingling, tell a story older than bones, than dirt, of how the world spins on its axis and triumphs despite futility in motion
children pass through playgrounds like they travel through burgeoning life, the way they drift from slide to swing— never looking back, always ahead
tap, tap, tap the sound echoes through the cathedral, and the chamber master knows from experience that the dead are lingering tonight, restless
Gleams of light spill through and drift across the atmosphere as she winds her way through errant space eternal. Goddesses called down the heavens
the score ticks up, another point lost, and you wonder what was the point I could stand here all day and sing you
she thought it was simple enough to plug in the right connectors, each lovingly set in its place, while the system hummed to life
glory days behind us, we drink up summer with lungfuls of air, embracing our lives but then there are days where we sit, huddled,
how the time trickles by as we’re counting days. the hours blending away in a rampant phase, our lives merely decades