Stephenie VanCampJones Poems

The air pulsates with
never ending rhythym,
deep into the soul.
...

Some don't know any better,
some just choose the long road
despite its hardship.
Gravel has a certain appeal
...

I am but your imagination,
a word, careless thought
visceral dilation.
Myth, magic, smoke screen
...

Down the highway of dried up tears, pent up lust
and hopeless dreams, or to dwell
...

He said he'd been dry
for nearly three months, but
she could see his palms sweat
as he rubbed his hands together.
...

In rythmic intervals
thoughts come and go;
Past to present blurs
into disjointed fragments as
...

Soft as silk
between my fingers,
your dreams shimmer
in the cast of moonlight
...

He was filled with insecurities when the
stranger came inside. His body trembled despite
his imposing size, nausea filled his belly
as he heard them mention no other choice.
...

I stare up at the nighttime sky,
constellations consume me.
I can't help but wonder
who else may be watching
...

Like a wild animal
who marks its claim into the night.
It whips on through
the isolated caverns in my head
...