Tuesday, February 24, 2015
migraines, and early birdsong
old friends & goodbyes
a tiny thrill of freedom
try and make sense of it, let me know what you find.
my world is topsy-turvy, and right now -- that's just fine.
I don't have any words right now, as you can see. The ones that come out are barely (if that) coherent. It's a jumbled mess as I try to work through the scars and attempt to 'feel' again. It's odd, being disembodied from your emotions. I'm afraid that I have grown too used to it, and almost enjoy it.
The problem is you really can't write without emotion, at least I can't.
I have grown tired of this apathy
and miss living in my world
- too much of this one, I guess.
So this, this will be my year.
by hazel marie - 24.2.15
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
they come to rest one by one
on the doe's long lashes, above her liquid eye
her breath like a cloud, still - yet swirling
up to the stars to join the crystal frosts above
a little scribble in the margins of Winterkiln