Poetry,  Published Submissions

they tell us we won’t be fifteen forever, by Jaiden Geolingo

September 21, 2024 /

so on a silver-washed morning
              we curl our fingers into blades of daylight
and hide our apathy in the creases of our skin
              this wouldn’t have been a thing if not for
our youth
              leaving to bleed stars across the dashboard
              & the road telling us we aren’t infinitely
combusting

[we are always driving down our
neighborhood somehow. we tried
rupturing the streetlamps to crystalize
the moment but the porch lights are
flickering in the dark.]

i want to dream of holding
              our cells in fission
splitting into a production of
              nameless humid nights
              they will tell us you can’t live like this forever
ignoring the approaching horizon
              but i feel our bodies collide
& our hands against each other’s ribcage
              so maybe we can stay here like this
                                                            for a little while

[we watch the world around us
coil into embers and our tongues
ripening with kinetic energy. i want to
memorize the way you smile and how
i smile back– how it’s not monstrous to live
with tenderness.]

– Jaiden Geolingo

Jaiden Geolingo, a sophomore in high school, is an emerging writer from Macon, GA. He has been immersed in the literary arts for most of his life, but only started writing recently. When he isn’t spilling words onto a blank document, you can find him flipping through poetry books on his bed, or around the people he loves.