HeyJaredLexie is writing to remember
I’m Lexie (he/him). I write queer, emotional poetry about the people I almost loved, the ones I still do, and the moments I haven’t lived yet but already feel. Based in Belgium. Still remembering. Still writing.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 8
- Latest publication
- Sep 3, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 13, 2026
Latest issues
the mapmaker and the country that kept changing. (opens the original)
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disclaimer: this will very probably be the last post i share on my substack.i don’t know if that means forever. maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. but if something comes after this, it won’t be for a while. lately, i’ve lost a lot of the desire to write, and even more the desire to place those pieces of myself here, under the light, for everyone to read.still, i wanted to leave you with this second fable, the one i started writing after finishing the locksmith and the traveller. it felt right to s
your favourite colour. (opens the original)
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<img alt="" class="sizing-normal" height="375" src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!74RE!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc4816d67-de4e-4e5a-b210-5eab001a75c6_736x552.jpeg"
today would have been our one year anniversary. (opens the original)
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<img alt="" class="sizing-normal" height="337.6326530612245" src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Czw3!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff732fec8-49ae-40ed-a89b-597b21365d0e
the locksmith and the traveller (opens the original)
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long before maps learned the names of kingdoms, before borders knew how to bruise the earth into ownership, there lived a locksmith. people crossed mountains to find him. some came carrying broken keys wrapped in linen, as though even failure deserved a funeral cloth. others dragged rusted gates behind them, convinced they had been cursed. a few asked him to build walls so high that no one would ever enter again. the locksmith always smiled with the same quiet patience, the patience of someone w
life lately. collection of thoughts and doubts. (opens the original)
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<img alt="" class="sizing-normal" height="500" src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!YJDi!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fca2aa846-c964-48d0-b344-d7f66e4f2a99_1024x
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