Tame the Wind

I cannot be an untamed wind, whipping others about without a soft place to land, especially when legs are barely strong enough to stand. When you tremble in your shoes and have so much to lose, you cannot open your hands to let go or to hold on when all the silken petals are gone … More Tame the Wind

Heart Light

Is this some great hollowing? Is this how I’m to be made empty? To become one with the void? Every time I think I’m close to making peace with my circumstances, the black veil returns to shroud the world in my eyes by dimming the sky. Some say it’s hard to see in greyscale, but … More Heart Light

The Silent Song

I had dreams bigger than my eyes when I was young, and my eyes were always bigger than my heart. Wonder for fuel, I reached for distant planets in my mind and found songs on the wind instead.   I sang til my throat was raw in hopes that they would hear me, even through … More The Silent Song

Rebel Dreamer

So often it steals our passion and replaces it with exhaustion. It sneaks underneath conscious intent like sleep undertakes motiv­ation. We cannot fight biological needs, and trying only makes the depletion worse. A fever returns the moment we push past the need for rest. Doing our best to rise above the rules and machinery, we … More Rebel Dreamer

Quiet Hours

Tiny robbers everywhere I look. Maybe I should close my eyes. Distractions pull and tug like pretty lights that try to steal my mind. I want to see the colors and shine but at what cost? How much of my heart is lost? A fraction of my breath, just enough so I can’t breathe deeply. … More Quiet Hours

Firebird

I built myself up from deep under ground but it isn’t enough to contend with night. The monsters and ghouls cannot bare the light of a new day when their eyes have been sewn shut for ages by their own hands. A needle to pierce the flesh of tender eyelids and turn them hard with … More Firebird

The End of Time

Impending Apocalypse. The fear bleeds in like a raging river preceding the wave. A flicker in the corner of my eye. Is it the walls about to crumble on top of us, burry us alive before the tsunami hits? Is it the floors believing they are really the sea, willing to relinquish their shape for … More The End of Time

The Weaver

I am careful, so careful, deliberate in every moment. I am instinct dancing, seemingly in the air, hanging by a thread. My actions are encoded in the finest hidden particles of my form, conducting my every delicate movement. My limbs shine in the sun as I dance my creation into being to nourish me, and … More The Weaver