Pressed

Pressed
By, Jess Dickson


Between monuments of nights
On a bed of leaving pressed beneath
Where nightmares and soul are buried alive
Screaming for breath released in tombs
Of silence where the unspoken resides
Housed in tears blackened by soiled regrets
Ages pass in moonlight’s shadow
Forbidden years left behind

Between monuments of nights
On a bed of leaving pressed beneath
Where memories and heart are buried alive
Crying for agony liberated by a single starlit plea
That echoes in the mind of deceased illusions
Trapped in the throat closed on love
Lifetimes yield to iron minutes
Deflected hours left behind

Between monuments of nights
On a bed of leaving pressed beneath

The Ones That Aren't Mine

The Ones That Aren’t Mine
By, Jess Dickson


Bruises pain the face
That possessed his clenched fist
Destroying joy’s perfect pretension
Impressions blend in rainbow layers
Painted on by the letting go

I can still feel knuckles hitting bones, the ones that aren’t mine…

Nicotine stings the lungs
That owned the screams
Devastating silence’ glass
Echoes drift in upward coils
Released by the held in exhale

I can still hear the voice, the one that isn’t mine…

Freedom burns the mind
That claimed his madness
Disturbing all knowing oblivion
Allusions swirl in an imprisoned shadow
Obscured at the joining of lives

I can still touch delirium’s tendrils, the ones that aren’t mine…

Memories sear the soul
That captured drops of heart
Drenching papyrus anticipation
Wishes lay parched at the bottom of the well
Powdered by the friction of years

I can still taste the tears, the ones that are mine…

As If It Were Yours To Give Away

As If It Were Yours to Give Away
By, Jess Dickson


In silence broken only by breath
I watch as payment is made,
Innocence bought and sold
Just a simple trade
Bargaining with my soul
As if it were yours to give away

You promise another ‘round
Or two…what did it matter?
Bruises darken to contrast powdered lies
Just a simple trade
Bargaining with my sanity
As if it were yours to give away

In darkness cracked only by invisible tears
I listen as floorboards creak
Announcing your turn has come
Just a simple trade
Bargaining with my heart
As if it were yours to take away

You promise another ‘round
Or two…what did it matter?
Apologies contained in the vial
Just a simple trade
Bargaining with my mind
As if it were yours to take away…

Newspaper Times

Newspaper Times
By, Jess Dickson

Crushed between the wrinkles of time and tears
Spirit’s cry left behind in stories laid out and kept
Concealed in folds of memory behind the veil
Of headline smiles bleeding into parchment lies
Scribe of self relegated to comics and classifieds
Seeking recognition between the crease of touch
Hand-pressed thoughts balled into fine print confusion
By circumstantial pages joined at the corners of hope
Paper-cut dreams sting with healing possibilities
Tattered not torn, saved by love’s binding twine
Coiled around shared front page dreams

~Untitled~

~Untitled~
By, Jess Dickson

Time chokes
Breath caught
On the second hand
Set in the moment
Death claimed soul

Tears rain
Drowning days
The ones that went
And never came
Stolen by fatal sleep

Pain clutches
Heart shatters
Into bits that never
Land to mend