By J.B. Stone
I know the energy is only a brief starburst with long term damage. A slow-burn ravaging my anatomy like a backwatered village, an open border to plunder and mayhem. I’ve grown tired of the bitter taste from coffee, the constant tests of patience waiting for a teapot to boil, waiting for the kettle to whistle a tune. Yes, this will kill me, the blood rushing through my marrow like an undiscovered party drug, all to lull my serotonin into a false sense of revival. Yet, it’s the only thing that keeps me awake, when the world gives my eyes reason to shutter.
J.B. Stone is a neurodivergent slam poet, reviewer, and writer from Brooklyn, NY now residing in Buffalo. He is the author of the A Place Between Expired Dreams And Renewed Nightmares (Ghost City Press 2018) and INHUMAN ELEGIES (Ghost City Press 2020). His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Maudlin House, [PANK], BlazeVOX, Wellington Street Review, Atticus Review, Occulum, Five :2: One Magazine, and elsewhere. He is the Reviews Editor/Editor-in-Chief at Variety Pack. You can check out more of his work at jaredbenjaminstone.com.
MoonPark Review 