Prose

she hides. against the grain. concealed under decorative distractions. hypnotizing patterns. that provide pops of brilliance in this consuming darkness. and vibrantly hope to help her escape the impending guillotine. poised. ready to befall our heroine all the reality she has ignored. all the put off til tomorrow thoughts refined to a sharpness. slowly. cascading silently. she watches the blade fall.

awash in a foreign cast. alien. outsider searching for crevices. footholds. ways to route a path of comfortable disservice. for growth sprouts from discomfort. advance. vining along one course. only to tangle in thorny brush the next. and force a reflective rerouting. proceed. despite the forever feeling one does not belong. and learn to embrace the uniqueness each unparalleled pattern offers.

solo daisy sprouting into spring. a wistful wallflower wilting in bipolar weather. she pensively ponders the depth of growth. longing. to escape these faux floral displays. to burst into unfettered wildflower fields. shed the weight of winter. and tramp through petal painted paths. flourish. but the wind chills her musing. all she can do is wait. sighing into illusions of spring.

residing in shadows too long results in amnesia. a loss of radiant joy. but allows for rediscovery. to tentatively open into peeking shine. a warm ray penetrating the darkness. that softly caresses. illuminates. rouses a hibernating creature. bestows a reminder of the vibrancy found in light. full color. to draw her from the cold. one sun kissing beam at a time.

when wishes need emitting make them on fleeting floating seeds. that delicately dance into the stratosphere. carrying those desires up. higher. to reach beyond our world. drawn into a gravitational waltz. magnetized. where the sun leads them in box step. spiraling until they are swallowed. fused. in a blaze of wondrous light. and become their own radiant beam of hopeful emission.

propped on discomfort. and shrouded in dissatisfaction. i toss and turn. uninspired. in this listless state. on the precipice of surfacing. uncover. emerge from beneath the deceptively heavy sheet. to the colorful world awaiting. that euphoric space where the wind whistles with joy. and all appears clear. but tempted to surrender. to the silky stagnation. recover. and melt into the limbo.

disarray can only last for so long. fizzle out. fade into a calmer rhythm. with her nest in order. this chickadee can recline. torpor. snuggle into pixelated pillows. leaving behind the stressful imprints of the past. for budding spring sun light. that attempts to burst through lingering winter clouds. and soothe. relax. into comforting cushions. while flying dreams overtake the day.

wrung out. til every drop of life has been soaked up. absorbed. has hydrated this bare being. leaving a luster of shiny sweaty reminders that we are alive. breathing. engaged so fully that every golden moment makes for a contented exhaustion. over flowing. from the tiny treasured tokens picked up throughout each day. and anticipating the excitement every new light cascades.

after days in depressing darkness. the lone huntress emerges. awoken. comes to the brink of bleak and bright. pondering the path ahead. divided. to burst forth into renewed jubilation. a sunny soaked street littered with soul-lifting adventures. or succumb to the bewitching dark side of sinful delights. snuggle into the listlessness she knows too well. split. she lingers on the edge.

swaddled in sinewy wooden skin. its barrier both preserving and preventing progress in my world. i sink further into the swampy trap of doubt. languish. fester in frictionless mind games. that endlessly loop detrimental mantras. sticky. in those stuck days when sludge sucks the brightness from my figure. feeding off melancholy moods. and taking me deeper into its murky muddy form.