I'm scared that 'becoming' who I am is just an acceptance of realities others have created. Maybe the older we get the more entrenched we become in what we perceive to be the truth; the more we experience of our tiny existence, the more we believe in it. "The way of life we live, a life we have never really chosen, forces us to walk past what we see."
I know you when you delicately stitch the fragments of your unbecoming When everyone else is reaching is reaching for the sun I know you when you ache to swallow it When you rip through yourself Searching for the skeleton key That will quieten the longing The cure Vague, elusive I know you when your love is sacrificial, ******, clingy but real.
seven freckles stretched across the expanse of a mystery when the wind would pick up she would dance with her shadow and her twirling reminded the moon of its celestial duties she held the milky ways in her lungs and the stars in her eyes and every day as the sun bid farewell long, dark, outstretched arms awaited her a receding tide of centuries of patience of forgetting of rewriting she asked herself often if she was born for this world or if it was born for her as leaves simpered at the brief graze of her skin and nebulas spilled from her fingertips
I think about what it would do to her. To call her: god. Divine majesty. Do not be afraid she says. And how we must be reminded every time...
When these creatures undress before us, and their form is an arrow sleeping in our gut. Our insides wrenching again and again each time we look. The more you worship, the more pain you know. Terror resides in the beauty of their form- a body we cannot understand. A body that is never wrong. And oh, how we can’t help but look.
For me, the moon is full and hanging behind my eyes. The wrenching and the writhing The moaning and pain It is sublime, unbearable transformation. Transmutable worship, transmutable horror-- Nourishment for a thing caught in its becoming.
You caught me in my becoming.
I am the dragon and the maiden it keeps. I am the mouth and the hand reaching inside it. Darkness and light begin to blur. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠.