The start of something Aries- your crown, alight and free, holds you back from the true connections you seek. bury your ego with warmth and water and let something greater simmer out of it. Taurus- Into the fray, boldly, or not at all- picking up the pieces you only feel you need. Not caring how…
Tag: Writing
Slowing my own heartbeat
Bring me the tide -so I may refresh myself in salt that is worth the effort. I miss the ocean, though I haven’t really known it. Much like I miss myself. What drowned gods need I pray to for exhalation of the water beneath my skin in vapour waves and almost-touched mist? Cover my eyes…
implore
What intrinsic circuitry is the human supposed to have? Where might I find the switch that sends sparks of accomplishment down the neural pathways I so lovingly have been made to maintain by a force, or lack of force, above Do you remember being asked if you wanted to be born?
Juvenile
This is the price we pay toiling under the dual suns of Expectation and Responsibility. When one sets, we work for the other. Will night ever come?
And
Hello, and goodnight. I feel fire flutter down the fears I call home and scorch the earth I held between my fingers, when you were still here and smiling. Auburn day blackened -alone again as ash at nights end You, O-Kagachi, Serpent of separating and falsehoods. The trails or trials, you lay, of silver, and…
Plunge
Do you know how cold the bottom of that pit is? I keep winding up there, gasping for the light I know is just above. But, I’m drowning in my own darkness and the shadows you cast. It is so harsh that I cannot fight them off anymore. Their fury, combined, is an undoing. But …
Pulse
There is something wrong with nothing happening. That dread building while I wait. Its face just around the corner. Holding ever tighter my throat before its fingers ever reach for me. I can feel its sickly smile as it says “you knew, but didn’t stop me” and I’ll feel that collective shake as my body…
Tender
Et sic ira mea; restinctus Forge yourself a new home among those who you can bend. Your will is fire, but I am already charred and can bend no more, lest my cracks begin to show even when flames do not kiss them
Willows
Willows Weep Again, And nourish The dread That I hold so close To my empty Hands. Hide my eyes So I don’t see Your Roots, As they Grow away From me.
Whet
I sharpen my knives on teeth I grew myself. Your words don’t sink deep enough into my flesh anymore. I have grown so accustomed to my own blood drawings. Tiny pinpricks that build up into black scars on fingertips. You, O-Kagachi, Serpent of separating and falsehoods. The trails or trials, you lay, of silver, and…