Corner Stories
Candles bleed
when the heats too close to home
Can't take it anymore
and the smoke commences
These candles,
they bleed on the street corners.
They melt the streets.
The parks and jungle gyms lose a soul
The corners will never sound the same
The normal hustle now sunken
The air has shifted.
It reeks the smell of stolen dreams,
a stolen life.
It rips through the seams of my jacket.
Incense can't cover it.
Bleach can't mask it.
Now every time I walk by,
or try to,
It's like trying to walk through an ocean filled with cement.
It's like hanging myself with an old shoe lace
Over and over
Again.
- Jordyn Grant
About the Creator
Jordyn Grant
I am a 21 year old writer. I am a student and I love poetry and creative writing. I want to write novels and movie scripts. Read my raw work, no 2nd, 3rd and 4th drafts just me. Thank You!
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