Riley welch is a poet from texas living in Denver. She posts three original poems a week. 

11:55 pm and with 28% Battery

Sometimes my poems just seem like journal entries
Long winding


Everything always seems to start with overlappings
Nothing really there
Until one after another
Piled up
2-d images don’t exist here
we cant imagine them
but sometimes I do
And I imagine they are the first existing layer
Of anything


Really. Of anything
Just like the outline
The one hundred percent
Two-dimensional outline
And when you change your angle
Even the slightest bit
Whatever it is disappears
Because that’s physics, punk.

Overlaps and overlaps later
Something exists
Maybe a dog
A tree
I don’t know
Books, words
Strawberry rhubarb pies
And eventually
The world is built

Round and round and round.

Now don’t let me lose you here
The world
Was probably a single un-overlapped two-dimensional thing
And can you imagine that.

Riley Welch

Running Backwards

Human Body