I have decided to leave this earthly plane, for I am not ready for those unfathomable sufferings; I am not ready to tear open the sutures of my subliminal, aching wounds.
Though I have been forgotten by the things I once loved, my spirit has broken the constitution of a duckweed stained pond.
So with the tedious musings of humanity left behind I shall weave my fingers through the caverns of Pisces— my arm through the nook of Aries— and I shall dance amongst the constellations; there will be no fuss and no weeping for the woman who dips her toe into the basin of the eternal night.
You may join me, if you're brave, but this life is not meant for those who grovel and those who behave.
YOU ARE READING
wildflowering
PoetryA selection of love letters, diary entries, prose, poetry and fragments of writing. "I find you where there might have once been a horizon, smudged between the esoteric press of lips and folding of hands; I find you in the immemorial gasp between b...
