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I have told my secrets through loves ink - painted them to my skin with watercolor defiance. & writers, we sometimes write about our scars in riddles, layers upon layers of thought, - care for them like flowers growing on the warlands of our bodies. Worthy, we give them faces, we give them names, we give them gravestones. We kill them off in our stories, make them villains, make them heroes. I have wrists that roar, & I will be damned if I don’t let them tell their stories.
Graduation Day: They told us we would be alright... We had fought with honour and won our titles. We had overcome trials together - Watching dozens of our siblings fall in the line of duty. For this they had promised us, a wondrous welcome; A bountiful world of adventure, with a myriad of paths. All this, they said, awaited us in the stone cities. Large metropolises, where the working folk resided... There were hundreds of us, who made that journey. Walking miles across the scorching desert, Clinging to a hope of the fortunes beyond. Yet what awaited us was not a promised land - Nor was it a life based on the merit we had earned.
Better Left Unsaid.
You'll be a lawyer- I'll be a writer. You'll probably make more money but- At least we'll both be doing things we love. And we'll live on a farm, Just like you always wanted and... I want to marry you- I can't imagine myself with anyone else. But you don't know that. We'd both laugh if I told you. So it's better left unsaid. I can see us staying up late... Watching kiddie movies and eating chocolate ice cream. And having candle lit dates on our bedroom floor- Taco Bell, of course. And on winter evenings, we'll curl up on the couch... With hot chocolate... As I read aloud to you- From a book of my choice, of course. But you don't know t
trees - wreathed with lights tiny lanterns pursuing darkness licking the night with small tongues grass - beaded with dew prismatic eyes, I see whole worlds in them they gush and cleave stones - fathers of the forest they know the tales of forgotten past whispered soundlessly when we sleep my rivers, full of memories my mountains, guardians of the sky my woods, I feel your roots in my marrow
In My Blood
it runs in my blood a soul of a beast that roars everytime when my shackles tense and my green heart beats at unison with a hunger for freedom it bites through the ropes it melts the binds with inner flame set loose - it knows no prisons it celebrates the sacred purity of northern breeze that caresses my mossy skin the fire that burns in my pale eyes the oceans that whispers to me at night and the earth, that swallows my bones when the wind stops to sing for me