What is poetry to you? waning creek through vast landscapes. traveling into terror truth. walking my tongue to litany. unlocking of heaven’s works in hell’s fire. works by @awitchsnest
Poem a Day – 4
Describe a color without using it’s name. deep, ancient, and wet. seas of uncertainty on summer dresses, and my lover’s eyes. Works by @awitchsnest
Poem a Day – 3
What does tenderness mean to you? open tiger mouths, with teeth pearl white, known for strength and wrath. yet the farmer’s daughter’s hands are safe, tracing it’s stripes. later, the tiger watches her little cottage in the night, with the chill rattling the windows. no one turns greedy eyes on the farm door. not…
Poem a Day – 2
Use the word ‘Golden’. gardens steeped with pearls and eyes on all the roses, but your face is gilded and golden. it hides all the secrets inside, though you wish them flying free above the hedge, they must sleep in the palace garden’s shadow. before the surface fractures, before the metal breaks. Works by @awitchsnest
Poem a Day – 1
Poem in which you acknowledge the writing of the poem. strings, red wilted and weak hang from my hands as Ii connect them to the page. creations, dirt to the castle, magic to the eyes. threaded through my life’s earnings, my world’s understanding. ruptured from the agony of past pain brittle from shabby disbelief….
Novel problems
I glance at the Spotify and see the playlist “wives” and feel my stomach drop. “Wives” refers to most of my main characters in one of my novels. I loved this story idea, along with my other novel that I was creating in tandem, because why stop at one book when your mind doesn’t have…
Kiki’s delivery service
I sit in my chair, dancing and swinging my hands around to Lorde, and drinking coffee. I have just done yoga, I cleaned a bit, I put away the laundry. I’ve eaten, I’ve taken care of myself. And I’m thinking of turning it into productivity, as if there needs to be a big huge purpose…
In which I continue to relearn
I explained how my feet were in hyper space and my mind was a black hole. How I could see the flowers but not the ground. How sometimes I grow quiet and can only hear my very loud internally shrieking. Terror as I fall into the nothingness. But it is not nothingness. I walked these…
Am I just my fear?
Fear cannot be killed, but it doesn’t have to take control of my life. It doesn’t have to speak in my mouth, it doesn’t need to stop my hands. Fear is a murderer of intimacy, of growth, risk, and creativity. I crave these things but still hold them at arms length, and only because of…
When Instagram recommends people that I wish it hadn’t
I’m sure the reason their profiles popped up is because I used to have their numbers in my phone, but it was viscerally shocking to have so many of them in my face at once. My ears rang a little and my husband asked me something from in the kitchen that I didn’t catch. It…
A Witch's Nest 