The light stays
on
and do the keepers
know
every wiry
midnight soul
needs to see
that all things
around
are just
as unpaused
as they are
are just
as alive
as they are
searching for
in the
large and small
shadows
the souls
drink light
hands lined
weathered
minds tethered
to somewhere outside
the present
the souls
bring light
to the one left
on
the souls
the souls
do they know
they are home?
on
and do the keepers
know
every wiry
midnight soul
needs to see
that all things
around
are just
as unpaused
as they are
are just
as alive
as they are
searching for
in the
large and small
shadows
the souls
drink light
hands lined
weathered
minds tethered
to somewhere outside
the present
the souls
bring light
to the one left
on
the souls
the souls
do they know
they are home?
Aleah Dye (she/her) primarily writes poetry, tending towards topics of morbidity, love, social justice, and philosophy. She is dreadfully afraid of imperfection and spiders, in no particular order. Aleah hopes to make hearts grow three sizes with her words. Read her latest work via publications like Ang(st) Zine, Mineral Lit Mag, and giallo lit. Follow her @bearsbeetspoet on Twitter.