by Nina P. Honorat
I am
going over
every single
little thing
every single—
And I wish I could
turn it off
stop the train
in its—
Track my thoughts,
pull them back,
nocked-arrow’s fletching,
set them—
Free to choose,
I wish…
I want it to
End. I do. I want
perfect pitch
black sun
flower bed
fellow man
made disaster.
— from Juniper Volume 5, Issue 1