Brittany Langdon

The July Editor's Pick Poet is Brittany Langdon

Please feel free to email Brittanay at: brittlangdon89@gmail.com



A whirlwind of chaos,
with roads leading nowhere, and signs with no end.
Trauma blowing through the passages, lost in confusion,
creating sinkholes too deep to swim.
Every emotion churning in psychotic thought,
suffering in shrilling screams, busted walls, and broken clocks.
She tore apart her outer world in reflection to her inner.

She trekked through an oasis of the sin she tried
desperately to escape from.
Armed with the wrong equipment,
she went into a psychological war with her super ego,
going against her faith
and came face to face with demons. Haunted by her mistakes,
she was tormented into a delusional fate.
Only God can save her now, before it’s too late.


Trapped between the divine and the weak,
reality and the unseen.
My life’s hit its peak.
They’re hiding shit in the pages that I read.
The voices got a hold on me.

The voices in my head,
keeping my delusions fed.
I’m primed and ready to spot signs from a mile away,
picking patterns out of roses that all look the same.

Now, the voices won’t leave me alone, they won’t go away.
No matter what I do, they make themselves stay.
They consume my mind, eating holes in my brain.
I’d let it rot, but it’d just look the same.

The voices try to lull me sleep.
I can hear their heart beat, beat, beat.
They fill up my memories, consuming, completely,
always in a halfway dream, balancing on reality,
teetering on the edge of insanity.
The voices got a hold on me.


When a heart breaks, it really does break into a million pieces.
Then you die.
Death is a horrid place. It reeks like moth balls and moldy lemonade.

Souls float in search of vessels to fill the gaping holes.
The holes left inside the chest.
The black gaping holes housing the shattered
remains of the beating heart.

Broken glass on the floor of an empty soul.
The shards would cut you like a knife.
Fingers will bleed, don’t get cut.

Monsters in nightmares are created here.
They’re sent out to put scares on the faces of strangers.
No one is safe from their hideous faces.
Broken hearts are everywhere.

It’s best to stay inside, keep your distance.
Don’t lose your fragile identity.
It’s such a precious thing,
the last remaining parts of your intact soul.

Don’t lose sight of it all, everything you’re living for.
Don’t get lost in the moth balls.
Don’t get cut by the broken glass,
or you could just risk it all. Just risk it all.

Brittany Langdon loves ghost stories, weird things, and summer time. She writes poetry and short stories in her free time. She currently lives in Michigan with her two children.