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Literature
October's Turn
part of me
lives permanently
within october's turn,
where neither baptism
nor drowning
can reach, wash away
the predictable chaos,
cultivated
under dying leaves, there
a season's worst-case
spins its past and
future memories
into the motor windings
of autumn's mechanical angel
its secrets released
from the unsafe, opened
not by the turns of a dial,
but a turn of things
for the worse,
a turn taken
in costume,
taken tangled, barefoot
and slick with storm
into silence, packaged
damp and tightly,
into a moonless night's
electric dark
and i'm wading its river
on skeleton legs,
waiting for daybreak-
for october's hills
Literature
pseudonym.
i was hit
until my
identity c r a c k e d [admit it],
i leapt out
of my depths into
those pools of darkness
that crept under my eyes:
i kept terror's disguise.
it needs dismantling
to see beneath the lies
i tell with whispered breath.
i once feared death
but now it reminds me
i'm alive.
Literature
End of the Line
What you do not want to hear
Is that there is no hope
What you do not want to hear
Is that there is no where to run
What you do not want to hear
Is that you failed
What you do not want to hear
Is the snickers and taunts
What you do not want to do
Is let go of the only thing that has meaning to you
What you do not want to do
Is end it all
But what can you do
If all the voices tell you
Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes
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The light does not always save us.
© 2015 - 2024 LadyLincoln
Comments24
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Amazing... your writing is very dense and impactful. Each word chosen very carefully. Like little bullets of emotion as I've been known to say