(when foolishly seeking
illusive and mythic beasts)
open your hands to catch your breath
(dropping pain from memory)
Peel away skins of bitterness
and layer on freckled vulnerability.
build pyres of looming specters,
only to shred them for kindling
(written threats and haunting voices dance in flames,
only to disappear)
the embers smoke like cedar planks.
Beasts stir
what’s left of your remaining heart,
from who you really are,
(fate, as you know, spares those it does not mark*)
and leave it behind
finally,
let yourself rise,
rise,
rise.
*Beowulf, lines 572-573
I wrote and illustrated my first bestseller, "The Lovely Unicorn" in the second grade and I've been terrified of success ever since.
Published by ShadowTeamsNYC and represented by Lisa Hagen Books
Published by ShadowTeamsNYC and represented by Lisa Hagen Books
Latest posts by C. Streetlights (see all)
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