snow moon

Jess Roses

i don’t read
other people’s poetry much
these days.

their feelings are too much for me
and for that
i feel broken:

my ribcage
held open with the jaws of life
my heart
screaming for reprieve
from the great maw of this
sickness -

mine
and ours.
the collective is
screaming too.

how can we hear each other
over the banshee song
of a generation?

we speak in trauma, in loss, in
the brief images of who we want to be
or the stolen moments
of who we really are
beyond our grief.

we speak silently
beneath the snow moon
voices wrapped in glowing white -
so soft
in the distance
under the glassy ice.

red is the only sign of life.

we were supposed to be
but became elsewhere
wandering the wastelands
of poems
we have never read
and will never read
again.

Fidgeting - Michael Greenberg.jpg
The_Moon_Through_the_Lens_of_a_Galaxy.jpg

Jess Roses (she/her) is a chronically ill, neurodivergent creator. Her focus is the transformation of relationships with pain and the taboo, exploring how these communal experiences relate to structures within and without the psyche. She has been published in Ghost Girls, Misandry Zine, and Gaia Lit, with upcoming works in Lovers Literary Journal and Wishbone Words Magazine. Find her on Instagram at @vvitchprincess.