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Plant my heavy feet like roots, and end my days as stone, watching the sunset
The crows will join me, and chatter through the day at my feet, the robins rest upon my greying shoulders, and sing me a lullaby to keep my heart company, and I shall be not alone
Plants will grow around my still form, trees protecting me from the rain and the wind,
Apr 7, 2025
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I am rotting.
I am haunted by an echoing pulse of once verdant requiems,
morbidly veiling my vision with whispering fungal blooms.
They chatter and chit,
until withering into skeletal thorns that sink beneath my skin and burrow into my cadaverous tissue.
I am overgrown with lingering epitaphs,
as if they were carved into me,
the memory of those I loved secluded in my vessel of a body,
nestled between my tendons and sinew,
Nervebound.
There is a rift between the seraphic nature of the dead and beloved,
and the morbid and discordant kiss of death that blesses me even in life.
Though I yearn in my anguished turmoil to either blossom or wilt for a final time,
the will for my fractured heart to return it's abyssal pieces from the void
is a pointless, forsaken task.
For all my decomposing pieces have been exiled into the earth,
distant and estranged from the Sun.
I will soon be bound by roots,
and I only hope my sap will be bountiful.
A solitary tree, hollowed by silence and a chambered wildfire.
My bark shall ossify into marrow and cartilage,
and a volatile mix of dendral viscera,
wood and resin and pine.
I am fated to decay,
until I embrace the sky,
resurging into a cathartic rebirth.
My crimson liquor within my veins will become liquid amber,
feeding you with sweetness and the phantom flavor of my flesh.
3d ago
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There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,
Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
-Sara Teasdale
Feb 1, 2024
i used to chase rainbows
walk a few blocks maybe
then turn around cause i always knew it was fruitless
now i do the same for sunsets
try to stay up for sunrises
i never succeeded but i always look back
i keep swinging and dreaming of the sun rise i never saw
all i have is the orange horizon that never finishes its downfall
i close my eyes and listen to the cicadas
i take a deep breath and ask god to change
but i open my eyes and the sun isn't set
hours after it was supposed to
my legs are tired but i wish to swing
my head hurts but i can breath
the car lights blind me and i hope they don't think of me
the bright fluorescent lights highlight my growing roots
not blonde but not entirely brown
dull and indecisive
so the next day, I walked further, I tried to see the sun for a better angle since I once again missed the rise
I seem to have walked quite too far, so the sky was blank, covered by trees and high skylines so I go back and turn around feeling the cars go by me almost hitting me each time, and I immediately regret that I didn't walk even further to see what was beyond the bend, maybe the trees would clear away and i’d finally see the set from a perfect angle
I hope one day I'd find myself back to a tall mountain Ridge where I could see the fall and theoretically the rise all by myself and nothing else in mind
but i didnt take advantage when i did have that perfect spot
Mar 30, 2025
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Mar 3, 2025
Apr 16, 2025
Finally got around to sketching Pablo's portrait
Now I just need to finish Patrick Troughton (cat not famed character actor) and we will have out cats done.
macron, uni posca, and Windsor & Newton brushmarkers
Feb 24, 2025