With wings

There is that moment

When I watch you shuck your skin

And emerge with wings.

I can no longer contain you

Where I can watch you

and keep you safe behind a glass jar.

You are slowly changing,

Discovering new versions of you.

I can only watch from a distance

As you grow and fly

Though I wish I could still keep your wings safe from the flame,

Let you dance with fireflies but

Not let the fire steal your spark.

By J. Hamilton



20190526_2314002290478655032929904.jpgTonight I am going to wrap myself inside your blanket.

The one with the pale green squares

And the flower patches.

Your smell is gone.

And I don’t know if this was your favorite one.

But I remember it at the edge of your bed

Draped over your soft,

Cool feet.

It has been too long since I have felt your arms

Wrapped around me,

Felt your warm, pink cheek against mine.

I have this blanket left

To seek comfort from.

To hold it against me.

I want to close my eyes

Feel your breath,

Smell your skin cream against my face.

Feel you mouth the words,

Sempre vicino.

J. Hamilton


Last night I dreamt

I was home again.

A child perhaps.

I woke up

Felt the sun falling on my face

Like sap.

I wandered to your summer-sky-blue room,

Looked at your freshly made bed.

I walked past my father’s forest-green room,

Saw his feet sticking out from under his covers.

Heard him breathing heavily in his sleep.

I wandered down the steps into the kitchen.

Looking for you.

Your smile is the first one

I love to see.

The kitchen light is on.

The kitchen smells of breakfast

Being cooked.

I run back up the stairs,

Trying to find you.

I walk into your room.

It’s still,


Suddenly feels unlived in.

I head to my father’s room.

He is not there.

In his place

Dust particles

Floating in the light.

I realize I am here all alone.

I am haunted by your absence.

Perhaps I am the one

Haunting this house

Where we once all lived.

I search

And wait for you here.



Naked limbs stretched out against a backdrop

Of pale blue sky

And pink dappled spaces


Two syllables

In a single heartbeat.

A breath

Under sinewed ribcage,

My body’s

Quiet glimpse

At peace

Stilled in a moment

Held sacred

By a sun slowly sinking

In it’s diminishing ebbs

Of light.

J. Hamilton

Winter’s day

Walking on an icy sidewalk

On a winter’s day.

Searching for the cracks

Where dirt has fallen

To place my careful


The wind slaps my face

Leaving its icy sting.

I walk a familiar path

But these feelings that rise up

As the cold wind that blows around me,


Are different.

Loathing and fear

Sit on my heart

Like a heavy stone

With edges as sharp as broken glass.

J. Hamilton


It is this pain that knaws away at me

Deep in my womb

And spreads up

Like fire

Across my belly.

It wants a way out

But can’t escape.

And my fear bubbles

In the darkness inside

Where light once lived.

An ache both physical and


To mend

To preserve what was lost

Profoundly palpable.

In it lives grief

In it’s many stages