Before all this

hollow shell of a man

waiting to be filled

with something

other than stillborn


over 125 pages read

in one sitting

pages you didn’t

know i had

marked by love’s end

pages sliding

between my fingertips

an orchestra living in low notes

discovering a new season

learning the way

of loneliness, pain

mapped out in blueprints

from quiet spaces

orange and yellow

railroad earth

horizons fall with

delicate mathematic


bits of you kept hidden

i’ve seen

you have more to give

from a heart of barbwire

unhinged doors


souls of regression

invisible bones keep


how bad does it hurt?

let’s hold hands to communion

to sunrises

walking into any or all things


dreamscapes can sometimes

get caught in transgression

midnight raw antics

graveyard shifts

you may think

you are late in coming to this

but you have been here

the whole time  

four decades looming

over balcony seats

the watchers studying  

every move that’s made

but even then

it can still happen here

the moments that have never been

are possible to hold

but what hope awakens

when you are all alone?

don’t want this to be

the last days of us

but what i see

and all i know

is written in between

your double spaced

confession of an unlived life

you are not wrong

everything is fucked




everything is a suicide quest

because nothing like the sun

can be replaced

sway with the trees

in the dark like a fool

shed your skin

with dead spirits rising

trip to nowhere

but maybe somewhere

with me

i didn’t know you

before all this

and maybe i don’t know you now

and i’m ok with it

because i’m not afraid

to burn alongside you in the fire

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Author: Lady on a Wire

Shannon Lynette is a poetess who resides in Albany, New York. She is the author of the titles A Place with No Name (2003), Lady on a Wire (2012), and Awkward Years (2022). Her work has also appeared in varies anthologies.

2 thoughts on “Before all this”

  1. This… Wow. This poem is epic.
    This poem shot all the way through
    To my core . out and then repeating the
    Wrapping of my spirit in a spool of electrified kisses and then releasing me
    . speechless. Lady this poem of yours is extremely foxy..

    Your words here are eternal

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