JORDAN CORLEY - POEMS

Jordan released her debut poetry collection, battle scars, at age 19 after maintaining a Wordpress poetry blog for a year. She currently attends Penn State University where she is attempting a degree in Biomedical and Mechanical engineering and writes for their school newspaper. Her biggest writing accomplishment would undeniably have to be her piece on Jesse McCartney because it has (hopefully) set her one step closer to meeting Justin Bieber.

​puppet strings

there's an aching in my chest,
a pain that only dulls
when i known you're within reach
and one swift tug is all it would take
to pull you back in place
by my side
where i feel you belong.


but now you've gone and done
what i could never do
and severed the last of the flimsy strings
that still connected me to you.


i am uncomfortable with this empty space
and the freedom of my feet
no longer tied together by
the string that bound us in place.

​

​safety net

you built a net
behind your lies
to prevent yourself from hurting
too much
when the fall inevitably came.


a safety-net
you called it,
an ability to always bounce back
and quickly


i've watched you fall
and bounce back
so many times now
i wonder what would happen
if you fell without a net
and took the time
to rebuild yourself
brand new.
more stable
than the you


that came crashing down.

​

​dangerously comfortable

you are comfortable
to me and my mind
a safe place to fall into
and think,
about what could've been
our future
and what might have been
our past.
you are comfortable
and that is dangerous
because although
i know
there is no future for us
i can not stop thinking
about you and what could've been
had you followed me closely
that desperate night
or if i had found enough courage
to say what i might
want you to say – please stay.
instead you are just comfortable,
a place for my thoughts to
go and rest
for a while when i'd rather not
think about something that might help
my future


without you.

​

​sunrise

​i get lost in the trees as they blur
before my tear stained eyes.
tiny water droplets slide down my
rosy cheeks, painting the skyline
with the colors of my palette
blues, greens, reds and oranges wash across my vision
and bathe my body in their glow.


there's a burning in my throat
a desire to release and tread on softer ground,
to take in the frigid breathes the cumulus clouds disperse
 and send them deep into my gasping lungs,
 revitalizing them within my weathered body.
these heavy strokes, so stark against what was once a blank canvas
are difficult to maintain,
at some point, i know, these colors will run dry.


but in the clearing up ahead, i see,
delicate purples and baby pinks cascading through the
branches, catching glimmers of the bouncing light 
and painting the naked sky with the colors of a sunrise.
these memories are not of the heavy breaths, 
but in deep lulls of the sanctity found in a calming season, 
appreciating the fallen leaves,
crunching underneath the trampled soil


we run.