My Body

My body was a means to somebody else’s ends
prodded, and petted; plied and provoked
but responding to nothing
and so thrown into the ocean.
 My ribs are a sunken empty cage
wreckage from a ship long ago
the bones crusted with salt
wanting the timid heart it lost to time.

the fish nip at the skin-pricking
the pruny epidermis peeling away, flakes of fish fodder
the organs collapsing into the murky floor
to be stamped on, and pierced by shelled individuals.

the once long lashes float away amongst the plankton
the tendons loosen joints,
I finally began to feel
when feeling ceases to exist.

An old poem I found while looking for all of my work that I have lost.

On Storytelling


I’m due for a real update, I know, but guess what?! I’m dealing with a bit of this ^ right now, so my updating may take a little time.

And it may be that tonight or tomorrow I’ll get so frustrated I’ll come on here and rant about everything… on verra

Hopefully, if it is a rant, it’ll be a pretty rant.