Jonny Brackney Poems

here is where
you meet the end
as glamorous
as i pretend.
...

leave your dead heart

at the door
...

at the end,
you tend to critique
yourself.
find ways to change, and
...

empathy dies
on a sunny slope.
you've seen the light,
gave up on a parable.
...

i stand in the loft
sifting through memories

as kids, we called it
...

i've seen more
passion
in a blinking eye
than any words i'll ever
...

don't you get too deep, you fool.
you'll ruin the work in progress.
then again...
being cautious was never
...

there is something
peculiar
behind these
eyes.
...

smooth
black liquid
wallows
in the cup
...