once when i was a child
i sat in a field
surrounded by woods

and watched sparks leap from the fire to my clothes

i remember them dancing
and stinging skin hot
tiny freckle burns
dotting my arms

like stars

i remember the smoke
rising into the sky
and curling like a cat
caressing the darkness

as it twisted upwards and away away

the wood broke and the
scent of elderflower
filled me to the brim
with heady wild-smoke

and i remember thinking
big eyes filled with fire
my mouth just open and breathing the heat in

i want to run through that fire

to the other side within

.
i have always felt a particular connection to the smell of woodsmoke and elderflower due to frequent encounters with both - particularly together - as a child. so much so that the barest scent of either sends me spiralling into another mind.
Kit Scott Nov 23
to find, in pain
             the promise of light
and, in silence, warmth
Kit Scott Nov 20
.
Imagine your body unbroken.

For a moment just consider
As your sinews stretch and muscles strain
As your bones shift and *****

Consider your body
Watch it and think
Skin stretched over flesh and tissue
Marked and scarred
Pale or tan or dark

Picture it
Look over it
This body of yours
Make it in your head
Your mind
Then open your eyes to observe

Consider your brain floating in liquid wrapped in skull and sending tiny electrical charges all around your body telling it what to do
Consider your feet, calloused or soft, holding you up (or maybe not)
Consider your hands, rough or delicate or both, helping you (or maybe not)
Consider your arms and legs (or maybe not)
Consider your stomach

Consider your heart

Consider for a moment, whatever state you are in
Whoever- wherever

Consider your body
Imagine it unbroken
Now look

Now

Imagine your body - not unbroken, certainly - but whole

It shouldn't take that much effort

It's right there, after all

Your body may have been broken. But that does not mean it cannot heal.

You can be whole.

(whatever happens)
It's not very good but I'm putting it up anyway.
Kit Scott Nov 17
They will know my name
I say
They will know my name
I claim

They will know my name
It's only fair
They will know my name
A promise, a dare

They will know my name
To tell tall tales to the young
They will know my name
Blazing bright as the burning sun

They will know my name
Spoken, crying, in a rush
They will know my name
To scream into the hush

They will know my name
To whisper in the night
They will know my name
They will know my might

They will know my name
Across the star-born universe
They will know my name
In the smallest places on Earth

They will know my name
Further than the eye can see
They will know my name
They will know me

They will know my name
For better or for worse
They will know my name
A blessing, a prayer, a curse

They will know my name
Let it give them pause
They will know my name
It will be written next to yours
I've made it my mission to write regularly, and publish what I do write even if I'm not happy with it. I'm honestly better at fiction than poetry, however much a great deal of poetry is a kind of fiction, (prose?) but I'm trying to improve myself here as I enjoy it and it can only make me better. I hope you like this.
Kit Scott Nov 4
a small, dark shape is reflected in the large, round eyes of the owl
tilting its head, it watches the creature snuffling through the snow and listens to its feet move
it takes off from its branch with a shivering of ice

meanwhile, i pretend i dont know it can hear me and continue clambering along
i do not know if it would be better to look my death in the face


(red on white, the drops bounce)
everyday is everyday, and yet
Kit Scott Nov 4
open me, close me
let the wind whistle through me

my panes rattle as you haul up my sash
wincing at my high pitched squeaking

you look through me to the outside
wishing to go there

and i see how you look at those flying birds
so haul me open, push me till I'm gaping, so that you can feel the wind caress your skin again

let the smell of the outside soothe you
i don't mind working a little overtime
Aperture - An opening, hole, or gap.
Kit Scott Nov 4
and in the quiet...



                    in the quiet, we are fine
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