Format Quote

What do you mean, you ask the owl,
But he never blinks and you sink
Into the thick painting of night.
There’s a cat in the moon and you
Watch her tail curl a question mark,
As you try to find all the scrambled
Letters half buried and forgotten
In the soggy grass.
The trash cans are all lined up
But even they don’t know why it is
You stumble down streets at 2am
Like you’ve lost something vital,
And you won’t sleep until it is found.
The cigarettes all burn out in the
Long hours before dawn, and they
Leave soot trails beneath your eyes,
You don’t blink and you don’t think,
And you no longer know how to sleep.

am kennedy, “Somnia”
Format Quote

What do you mean, you ask the owl,
But he never blinks and you sink
Into the thick painting of night.
There’s a cat in the moon and you
Watch her tail curl a question mark,
As you try to find all the scrambled
Letters half buried and forgotten
In the soggy grass.
The trash cans are all lined up
But even they don’t know why it is
You stumble down streets at 2am
Like you’ve lost something vital,
And you won’t sleep until it is found.
The cigarettes all burn out in the
Long hours before dawn, and they
Leave soot trails beneath your eyes,
You don’t blink and you don’t think,
And you no longer know how to sleep.

am kennedy, “Somnia”

Format Quote

It is the music:
clutched to her rib cage where
she breathes air into sound.
Just wait, the violin whispers
as it climbs up the patter of keys.
Stay, stay, stay, a broken record plays,
winding it’s way around a crescendo,
pulling the peaks up to a string scream
where she tips, slips, and slides down into the drumming of her own heart
beat as it plays her, repetitiously,
to sleep.

am kennedy, “The second movement”
Format Quote

It is the music:
clutched to her rib cage where
she breathes air into sound.
Just wait, the violin whispers
as it climbs up the patter of keys.
Stay, stay, stay, a broken record plays,
winding it’s way around a crescendo,
pulling the peaks up to a string scream
where she tips, slips, and slides down into the drumming of her own heart
beat as it plays her, repetitiously,
to sleep.

am kennedy, “The second movement”

Format Quote

I remember what your eyes looked like when I said goodbye, keeping the secrets tucked tightly to my chest. You didn’t know it was the last goodbye, but it carved itself into my memory anyway. I begged you with words I did not have to remember this moment, to understand how deeply I loved you, how sorry I was for my silence when it mattered the most.
I remember how it bled inside me, the taste of metal in my mouth and the feeling of razor blades sliding down into my stomach. I wrapped my hands around all my sharp edges, trying to hold the skin together as I fled. That night was black rain and hot asphalt, and I walked toward the ocean for hours to find something other than gray.
But I knew, I knew all along that the only colors left alive were in your eyes and I had already said goodbye.

am kennedy, “The solitary confinement of Color”
Format Quote

I remember what your eyes looked like when I said goodbye, keeping the secrets tucked tightly to my chest. You didn’t know it was the last goodbye, but it carved itself into my memory anyway. I begged you with words I did not have to remember this moment, to understand how deeply I loved you, how sorry I was for my silence when it mattered the most.
I remember how it bled inside me, the taste of metal in my mouth and the feeling of razor blades sliding down into my stomach. I wrapped my hands around all my sharp edges, trying to hold the skin together as I fled. That night was black rain and hot asphalt, and I walked toward the ocean for hours to find something other than gray.
But I knew, I knew all along that the only colors left alive were in your eyes and I had already said goodbye.

am kennedy, “The solitary confinement of Color”