free verse, independent, literature, poetry, Uncategorized

Between Galaxies


Frozen dry

Abyssal vacuum.

Lightless maw.

Neither here nor


I feel nothing.

Not joy, hate, arousal, jealousy, lust.

A husk that seems passable

Until you pick it up and realize it’s hollow

And the insides have all rotted away.

If there is anything living left

It sleeps in narcosis,

A secret shifting behind plastic eyes,

Stuck somewhere in that empty space

Between Galaxies.

Jack Blare, 2016


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s