Blink

Who do I speak to in the dark, when my moon is encumbered by intransient clouds? Selene, can you hear me? Blink twice for yes.   (image: Pinterest)

Hush (Expanded)

Fleet feet into the wood you went; they had scent for your blood, and you obliged despite my caution. I followed you through the veil low lying grey, hush expanded, my breadth at your heels— but now you’ve learned. So the sickness does spread thick as molasses, and you’re a boulder in my arms; if

You Don’t Know Me

Ever I change. A shade at will– see me clearly, you won’t.  

Be Still With Me

  I hide behind the shadows shading my face– can’t stand your sunshine. Sunbeams are like platitudes. I don’t need you to cheer me. Just sit with me in the dark and say, “I know.” That is enough.    

Real at 2 a.m.

I like to be awake alone at night. Perhaps it’s a preference inherited from my mother. Can preferences be inherent? Any smarty-pants reading this post, feel free to comment the answer below; however I do know the answer to the broader question unasked. So, maybe don’t bother commenting because you’ll probably just piss me off. You

In contrast

The Heavens prepare for dusk turn down the sun, orange-pink watercolor world now purple-blue ink for dark deeper still until the black gives birth to her stars and the phantom rises, white moon omnipotent, beloved nightlight, calls for the shadows I see my garden clearer in contrast

Follow Me Into The Darkness: Fightstar

You–You are never alone…