Widowmaker

Such a beautiful, poetic read, and gorgeous photo.

Widowmaker Water swirled around the old tree, oozing into the spaces between its trunk and loose bark with borborygmous sucking sounds, ripping it …

Widowmaker

Cracked

When I look in the mirror,
Any mirror,
There’s always a crack;

It cannot be fixed,
Buffed out,
Or filled in.

The more I touch it,
The more it grows.
It seems to follow me,
And lingers
In every mirror,
At every age,
At every size,
In every lighting.

Living with this crack is exhausting.
I’ve tried covering it up,
But it always shows through.

Cruel Irony

It feels like cruel irony:

The person who loves you the most, makes you feel the most empty;
My heart aches because love is blind,
But my mind and soul know the truth:

Love is not love without boundaries.

The cold hands of abuse sink their nails into my throat,
And I look to their comforting embrace,
Once again.

Autumnal Phoenix

My Faith has withered, its leaves have all turned brown; The once luscious blooms turn dark, the edges start to crumble.

“I’m going through a hard time” has turned into “I have a hard life”. Nothing else can exist; Nothing will ever be enough to satisfy the black hole that resides in place of your soul.

A once deep adoration is now dead; The petals are being plucked and only the rotten stem remains.

I have no trust, no faith,

But I am free.

I will spread my wings of fiery conviction; My faith is now in myself: A lonely lotus with he frog prince, a Phoenix with her fiery spirit.

I am the Autumnal Phoenix.