The train calls in the night
Hours past 12
And hours before the sun
Yet it was not unheard
For as the town sleeps
I lie awake bound to my thoughts
The train calls again
Screaming into the pre-dawn air
Longing to escape those rails
No matter the destruction it’d cause
-Galwyn
I tried to find a word for her
A word to give her
A word to call her
A word to warm her
In these arms smeared with ink
I tried to find a word to show her
A word to express
A word to reminisce
A word to suppress
All the pain that came before her
I tried to find the word to say to her
A word to bring me to a knee
A word to bring a smile to her face
A word to bring her a shoulder to lean on
And a word to bring this dream to life
But I stay asleep
And we stay apart
For I do not know the word for her
And worse than this,
I don’t know if there ever was,
Such a word
Or such a person
For someone like me
-Galwyn
Cynicism, Pessimism, Skepticism
Three “ism”s
Defining the schism
Between childlike wonders
And nihilism
No gentle conveyance
No euphamisms
Life tears apart the colors
Just like a prism
-Galwyn
They said it was up to us
Up to me
Like there was some part we were to play
Whilst antagonized into protagonists
We would be the ones to save it all
Yet we are the ones to blame
For somehow ruining it in the first place
As if by some original sin
We were born broken
We worked hard to fill the cracks with hope
Yet we are still lazy it seems
Fingers incapacitated from picking up the pieces
We are always wrong
But pardon me for complaining
Whipped for our arrogance
Pardon me for explaining
Despite this, we learned
Promised jobs and warm smiles
Minds dreaming for evolution
Left dusty behind counters
Proud of the jobs we can land
Yet crying ourselves to sleep
These “precious snowflakes” prepared for cold
Yet were thrown to the heat
The stubborn will croak
And leave us with their mess
From behind all our counters
We begin to do as we do best
We think of what we’ve learned
What we need to do to move on
Yet each measure is stillborn
Naiveté gone
History
Math
Science
Art
It all points to the dismal truth
Which only we seem to see
Too smart to be stubborn
Too compressed to be diluted
The fission on words
Mirrors the fusion of thoughts
The future can’t change
And the past was never really golden
We can’t fix what was never right
So here we see the burden
We were born into long ago
There wasn’t a thing worth fixing
The burden is to know
-Galwyn
Summer sunder
Cutting cardboard shadows
Of ones I used to know
Always looking for another
But reliant on the others
Feeling sick at parties
But alone at night
Wanting to find others who’d care
For verbal dances
And cynical kisses
Building a castle
Where we’d stay
And turn away those who’d gawk
Twin orange wings
Of two lovely monarchs
-Galwyn
I write the best
In the allure of death
So should you see me slipping
Just know I won’t be stepping down
With a rope around me gripping
-Galwyn
My world revolves around her
Drawing me to the center
And my fears to the edges
As they are thrown into space
The scent proceeds her
Crisp apples snapping in the sun
Yet warm and soft
Soaked in sweet ambrosia
Her silk bed of cinnamon
Brown and lucious
Pooling around me
Spicy, yet budding so calm on my tongue
Next is vanilla cream
Heavy, but not crushing
A sheet pulled over a sleeping face
Incubative moments for dreams
Yet who needs dreams
When the word revolves for you
And as it spins
The scent is spread
To every corner of your desire
A subtly sour taste of green apple
Herbal nuance warms your throat
The flavor of love always changes
But tonight is for her
The warm apple pie
Donning the cold sweetness
Of sugary snow
-Galwyn
