Rec | FULL MOON WRITTEN BY ME

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mid night mass moonlight ass in the open eyes celestial sea above Earth body buries radiant roots divine death death a wake -ash(ley) Michelle c.

@scumpoet

Sep 22, 2024

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the ocean

there is something figuratively beautiful about the things we know and don’t know, the sublime and mundane and when you visit the beach, do you ever think about if the animals who live in the embrace of the depths remember the beauty of the ocean? where the salt envelops every single one of us, accepting us as kin letting her wind tousle our raw, visceral edges and pepper them with her sea-foamed kisses which tell me that it’s okay to pretend and okay to tell the ocean all of myself the ocean reaches out to me, hands cloaked in the sharp coolness of water and something else- something i don’t understand as I poke around in a tide pool, like a vendor at a bustling market, observing the wares that the ocean has to offer and i turn around and ask her, do the barnacles see themselves? do anemones understand their own beauty, fragile and ephemeral? i don’t think they do. but the ocean doesn’t have any words for me, instead shutting my mouth with a shhhh as her sandy dress rustles down the shore, laced with white foam and gossamer trails of ripples and wordlessly, tells me to look and i do. until the sun hurriedly retreats from the wispy radiance of the moon, enrobed in puffy clouds and it's just the three of us. the moon tugs at the ocean’s hand, dancing to their own secret rhythm, letting me see them in their love. personally, i think it’s beautiful \\ and i wish i had something like it and the ocean laughs. nothing jeering or ridiculing, simply an acknowledgement that i understand. everything around me falls, like petals cast off from a chrysanthemum. and then, we were wordless like the ocean had never spoken in the first place. i want to descend into the depths of the ocean one day, to be hugged once more and never again. not because i am tired of being alive, but frankly within me exists too much zeal to live. uncontrollable surges of wow i am alive in flesh, blood through my veins, and thoughts in my head become more addictive than any form of fentanyl, cocaine, heroin and better than any gateway into a better life or a better existence, transcending normality and the moment it’s just me in my head, without the viscous energy of being alive suddenly drains me like a leaking bucket, decrepit and dry. i want to burn like a torch, setting my world alight into embers, into flames, into an inferno. Sunrise:: being alight || with a halo of only thoughts and dreams || and the divinity of something new

@neiternal

May 2, 2025

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THE MOON IS ALWAYS FEMALE BY MARGE PIERCY

I’ll let one of her poems say it best: “Leonard Avenue Two floors down I loll in warm cinnamon-scented water. Box piled on box on box, up under the eaves you float in turgid bloodwarm sleep. Bundled in my robe I climb bearing coffee steaming incense on the chill stairway air. We’ll drink it dabbling in bed on the shore between waking and sleep where you enter my wetness and I take in your warmth.” Excerpt From Moon Is Always Female Marge Piercy

@teenynehemie

May 29, 2025

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you know, all i like to write about is love. writing is easier when it’s about your own personal experiences of grief, of pain but love is the beautiful dove of the two released at a funeral, released at a wedding. , because the definition is different for everybody. — the trees rustle again tonight, and the wind gently taps on the windowpane, begging again to be let in and my thoughts race farther and faster in the night than a pure-bred, hot-blooded racehorse, bucking wild for the first time my mind buzzes, stricken like a gong, reverberating in the quietness of tonight as i drag myself closer to you, you reach out for me, an unspoken, gentle and devout prayer, asking for me in the unspeakable words conveyed in a whisper through actions – i promised you a fantastical world of your own, where you are safe, through my own creation. i have created for you in the heart of my own somewhere for me to love you, fully and infinitely with all of myself. if this is not where you are safe, then there is nothing else. – word by word and sentence by sentence i create dreams i would never tell anybody not even under the skies of a cloudless night. when i sleep, i tuck my hopes and sadness under my pillow and hope a fairy will kidnap it and place in that spot something i should need more. but night after night, my dreams just macerate in the container of my heart. soon, i will drink them like an elixir of truth and what i am afraid of will come

@neiternal

May 2, 2025