Jonny Brackney

sometimes i feel the devil
and his dirty eyes
watching.
haunting me.
...

there is no such thing as
broken hearts,
only broken
minds.
...

so this is where we are,
where we will always be.
stuck between our words
misread,
...

cold air

knives
...

that trusted liquid
takes its toll
carries my thoughts
away.
...

here you are,
spinning with me
slow
painting me in
...

anxious
dazed
driving ferociously steady
through Alabaster
...

she met me on that famous road
dressed all stylish and hip.
trying to intimidate.
trying to impress.
...

if i could
choose
to be anything,
i'd be a
...

just a poet.

not a
hero.
...

growing up
i never thought i'd
know people
who are dead
...

in order to be
consumed by music...
you've got to have it
loud.
...

each time i finish
a poem
i feel that it is perfect.
then i read it
...

The riddle
has been solved
the night is at fault
the dark
...

and so they writhe
in their pathetic
affliction.
giving money to the greedy
...

every great artist seems to ask
this highly pathetic
hypothetical question.
'would anyone miss me
...

i hope they come
pouring
these horrid words
simplistic, cold
...

there is a
new war

a fire within
...

in the shadows

yellow eyes
and teeth
...

what is it
that is missing
from this picture i am
painting?
...