ryeheadley
Where your curse is heavy, my gift is featherweight. You'll need to right yourself with a stilt. You look like you could use a shower or a fix.
The dugout
Named for its genuine cold
Days where it felt like a shelter
Though you could lose.
Festival
This was the only time of year
The only of its kind
It was a sacred force. It stood tall at the edge of the forrest. And broken off the trees. Screaming down into me. Hungry for the sound I looked up. Awed. Found. Free.
The master functioned as a prisoner in our mind.
We were under the boss,
though it'd us going to know he was here with us.
At odds with the way the imagination perceives one blooming hour. With a keen understanding of how unknowns stand and look over the known. Deft in its movement, the saturation is vast beyond its definition, and blindly leads a silhouette of 60.
writing since 2012 · 6 entries · 6 days shown up
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the words you reach for
oddsimaginationperceivesbloominghourkeenunderstandingunknownsstanddeftmovementsaturationvastbeyonddefinitionblindly