From a Hearts Current

Updated: Jan 27

I couldn’t do that to myself...

To be the only one fighting for us.

The coordination of our demise, I believe,

Had more parties involved than we realized.

And whether or not those parties were sentient

Of their contribution... I don’t know.

But I don’t believe intent overrides outcome.

I do not believe self consciousness outweighs consequence.

A month and half now passed, and I find myself in the woods.

I became a crescent, as I softened into the heart of a red wood stump.

Straining my back, unraveling.

I hung my head, inverting the wood, as my crown hung to the earth.

My mouth agape, jaw to the sky.

I was rooted there, more grounded than i’ve been in years.

Now I sit in my bed and I knit spitefully,

I bind my anger in every pass.

I lay it there to rest.

To be transmuted into something useful.

As my palette unfortunately rejects spite.

I will mourn it all, cyclically.

And when it all passes through, I pray I wont look back in vexation…

But with the knowledge that there’s so much more.

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