A myriad of emotions thrumming through the chest, A caged feral creature never known how to rest. A compilation for anyone that's felt emotions Red and Burning and did'nt know how to set them down. The words here are raw and potent. A story of healing, not in a linear form but in mosaic. You cannot help but look in the mirror and ask, Did you see yourself? To remind you that healing is not linear and nor is trauma, The words embrace the imperfect, and the nature of grief and love to co-exist.
pray me a boat a sleek- wooded vessel to cut the mirror at dawn.
the matrons of mourning call out of roses, for lilies for gardenias, for wisteria
crown this corpse with more than it has earned
weigh me down with woven wreaths.
let them all see, i was the stone he could not sink
i lay in cloying bed : a hand - plucked scalp of hillside.
i drown a garden
whimsical fruit of earth and sun.
flora for the sea : retribution for the tide
