“oh i’m so cold” i say. “ill just wrap myself in my wings to stay warm” i say. there is no wings. they’re gone. stolem 💔

I fell and it was okay. I fell and I liked it. I fell and it freed me. I fell and I landed among the roots and flowers and creatures of earth and I fell in love with the nature around me.

It had always been my dream to die somewhere in the wilderness alone. When I am ready I will go and be amongst my people and my home one last time. There I will slowly rot and be consumed by the land until I am part of it. The idea of having a funeral, being put into a coffin or cremated makes me uncomfortable. The only thing I see as rest is to be consumed by the earth, never seen or touched again by anybody. For the last touch I know to be human haunts me.

I forget how big my wings are until I get a shift, try to go into my pantry, and suddenly feel hurt until I have to figure out how to tuck my wings in :(