Just A Fledgling

we have to write poems in my creative writing certificate program, so I pieced something together from Belphie's medical reports

glass fists into

an acceptance of

fragile peace.

I try to

count blessings like

I count

depressive episodes in

a sludge of

shattered neurons.

Survival is possible; I

must believe it

in every

scabbing second.

i have just stumbled upon the most beautiful public document i have ever laid eyes on. this also goes for anyone whose pastimes include any sort of character creation. may i present, the HOLY GRAIL:

https://www.fbiic.gov/public/2008/nov/Naming_practice_guide_UK_2006.pdf

penis ensnare and penis beware,

BECOME ENTOMBED IN MY PENIS LAIR!

epitome of ever-free

your love a lance so couched for me

to pierce defenses quite kindly

while we raise cries of ecstasy

stand next to me

your fingers twined

in mine, so carefully

like vines, so dare we be

to climb, o'er air we see

in time, our fair release

verily seas of love strive violent

divine light lent climes inclined to vent

our prime vibrance in sighs and lips

eyes and wrists

thighs and hips

tongue-tied lines rob my intent to impart

the art of your heartful

standard of bannered love

like heaven's blood

-red petals and verdant floods

worth enough to tip the scales

the veil tore rash and boldly

letting in glowing sun to alter

Softly, the wind whispered your name,

As I sit here, longing for your embrace,

My heart aches for the joy it once knew,

When I was held by someone like you.

The day seems colder without your glow,

My soul feels empty, wanting to grow,

But without the warmth of your skin,

I'm left in this melancholic spin.

Your absence is like a ghost to me,

Haunting the corners of my memory,

I search for you in every dream,

Hoping to find you, though it may seem.

For you, my heart will forever yearn,

As I wait for the day, you'll return,

Until then, my love, I'll just exist,

the sun mourns in vain for the white-throated rail: a comic about disability and the unwanted able-bodied grief for past selves.

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION:

Page 1: The sun holds a white-throated rail, a bird with a red head, a gray body, and a white throat, in its hands. The sun speaks in a tone represented as sorrowful pity through a drippy speech bubble.

Sun: Looking at you makes me sad!

Rail: What?

Page 2:

Sun: Looking at you makes me sad!

The sun stands with a hand clutching its face.

Sun: How miserable it must be to be flightless! Don’t you yearn for the skies? Don’t you wake up grieving you’re still on land?

Page 3: The white-throated rail looks down in frustration in the hand of the sun.

Sun: (speaking off screen) I’d simply perish if I were you!

The rail speaks, looking down. Pink flowers bloom towards the bottom of the page, petals and pollen blowing in the wind.

Rail: Why do you put your words in my beak and your grief in my feathers? Am I not beautiful?

Page 4: The bone of a white-throated rail is positioned against a colorful galaxy dotted with flecks of stars.

Rail: Am I not adaptability in action? Am I not evolution in motion? Do you mourn the days you weren’t a star? Do you mourn when the sky was cold, how unbearably hot you must burn to keep embracing it every day?

Page 5: The sun looks at the viewer.

Sun: Why would I? That was then, this is now. I am content to be in this state.

Page 6: The rail looks up at the sun off-screen.

Black Hole

Legend

Stranger

Hotel

Asteroid

Abyssal Plain

Lightning

Monster

that you hold me in your arms

and my heart beats at the n rhythm of your touch

I want you next to me with me

What is love?

something more than a smile

a hug

is the eternal love for a person

the sense of remembrance hanging from a thread of the mind

the source of the keys hanging on a tree of the heart to open the gate of emotions

and show this person how you feel