the reading index


when i sleep, why do i have nightmares of children being hit by cars and serial killers wearing buffalo heads at my family reunions?

is it the same reason that when i am alone in my apartment i set up the pillows on my bed to face the door, with my phone in my hand, 911 already dialed.

when i look in the mirror, why do i spend hours staring at my eyes, and not looking into them. ranting the 7 syllables of my name over and over, sometimes for up to an hour or more.

and why is it that i spend so much time trying to figure out why i should say things, when i should just be shouting them.

Craig Owens (chiodos)

i had to do something with the loose ends
so i tied them around my legs
i saw patience in the water as i gazed in
deserving so much less

as i sank the noise and colors left my head
in perfect clarity i’d missed
nineteen years old when numb killed cold

i wasnt gasping so tell them when theyre asking
tell them what i said
there was nothing i could do with the things left to prove
so i gave up on them

i could save the boy who used to feel alive
the boy who had his mother’s smile
he used to swim but we’re losing him
to the current

save the boy by Travis Bryant (goodbye tomorrow)

Shadows all around you as you surface from the dark,
Emerging from the gentle grip of night’s unfolding arms
Darkness, darkness everywhere, do you feel all alone?
The subtle grace of gravity, the heavy weight of stone

You cannot see what you possess, a beauty calm and clear
That floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier
All the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas,
The shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe

I want to bring a mirror, so silver and correct
So precise and so pristine, a perfect pane of glass
I will set the mirror up to face the blackened sky
So you will see your beauty every moment that you rise.

You Are The Moon by Greta Salpeter (the hush sound)

Oh Lord, how I want to fall in love in ease by the lake in St James.
With smoke in the evening sun, I will sleep and I won’t move

Oh Lord, what am I to do with me, my mind falling off the hazel trees?
I go from wanting graciously to not at all.

A young mother’s medicine is strange.

Oh mother, I want to be a child before all the salting came in me.
To love not as a boy with almond skin, but ripe as an apple’s skin I’ll love

A young mother’s medicine is stranger than you thought;

1 part paranoia
2 parts bread and wine
1/2 a cup of sugar
and any drug you find

I’m wasted all the afternoons

I never sleep at all
My heart’s a famine murdered land
I dare not speak of God.

And it’s strange , but I wish I could fall in it.

I wish I would.

A Young Mother’s Medicine by Jarrod Taylor (in reverent fear)