I haven't written in a while, and I definitely haven't blogged in a long long while. The last few weeks have been rough, but a network once taught me that challenge is an opportunity to prove who you are. I've done my best to show that my heart holds respect and empathy. Today is a day where I don't know what to do, where to go, or where I belong. It is a hard feeling. So I wrote this a few days ago, and I will share this.
A Villanelle
-drafted between 8/17-8/24
- in the nocturne hours.
Treme Forest
-Cid Galicia
Walking alone, perception feels far fetched, in the forest.
Looking feels far, thinking feels far, and feeling--feeling feels further.
Away is where I want to be; here sings only the quiet chorus.
Lost pine trees, like lost pages in a thesaurus,
Word for word and leaf for leaf pushed purser.
Walking alone, perception feels far fetched, in the forest.
Our past is hard to leave behind, when little lies before us.
New is so far, and an unheld hand is a poor precursor.
Away is where I want to be; here sings only the quiet chorus.
The empty words close-strangers pour contort us.
As Crane's red devils gather, I blot and murder.
Walking alone, perception feels far fetched, in the forest.
In the lights of drinks and dance, both angels and demons glow glorious.
Hips, heels, hooves, and hands all deemed demurer.
Away is where I want to be; here sings only the quiet chorus.
Would I dare to flare her heart or her riffs toward us
I'd dare not, for I dare no more to drive her furious.
Walking alone, perception feels far fetched, in the forest.
Away is where I want to be; here sings only the quiet chorus.
