trace the line they make from foot to floor- my skin crawls with the shock of feeling again and you can’t take this from me. willow bark for my head- never enough, though, for my heart. crush the leaves i gather in my hands. An offering to you, love, something to whet the incessant swelling…
Month: December 2018
Fall-En
Scorched, like the eyes of my former self. Divinity pouring from your fingertips- how wholly you have come to encompass a part of myself I don’t really need. I forget where I’ve come from at times and you remind me- It doesn’t matter. We all end up in the pit. What wrath have I incurred…
Heavy
These stones Sweat with suffering Like all I have ever seen. You speak of divine faces from the ashen Places between But you leave your tears Streaming into wells That none draw from.