My shadowy feathers ruffled out at odd angles, but without my wings I could not fly. A red ribbon tied around my middle held them to me. I cried out in horrid screeches, begging the wind to carry my sound down from the turret that was my prison. Slowly they arrived.

The first raven wrapped me in words. He nuzzled my skin with his beak and orated distractions. A nest of dictation. But it did not save me from the tower.

Then came the second. His beak was razor sharp. He nipped at my bindings until they fell from me. He left me bare and wounded. He kissed them so sweet that I forgot he had been my abuser. Bandages of pain. But it did not save me from the tower.

Next, in response to my tearful screeching was a crow who’s heart was on the outside. He dried my tears with his own weak wings. And in his fervor to save me, he strangled me. Squeezing the air from my lungs. But it did not save me from the tower.

In desperation, I threw my shining, midnight body into the glass. A winged shadow charging incessantly. I flew into it like one returns to their home. My body weak and wounded. Old scars opening. Crimson splattering the glass. Cracked edges tearing my plumes from my skin. Until it all split. And I tumbled from my steeple. And I was certain this was my end. The air too much for my broken wings. And as I crashed to the ground my landing was broken. Black feathers from my ravens. A pile of down.

And I swore I heard it whisper.

And it kissed away my fissures.

And it dried away what pain was left.

And all three had become one.

I remember the olden days

I would enter your house,

Greeted by the heartwarming smell

Of freshly cooked food

I would step into the living room,

Where you always were

I would look at you,

And be met with a beaming smile

Even when we weren't in the same room,

I'd hear you playing video games,

Mashing away at various buttons

I'd listen as you joked and jested,

Constantly ready to give laughter,

And share in it, too

You were an amazing person,

And although there's sorrow

In the space you left,

I'll forever have the blissful memories

You graced me with

Waking up before the sun,

watching my husband rest,

my son’s smile and energy

living life with such zest;

dancing in the bathroom

in the kitchen or the yard,

singing in the shower

in a store or in the car;

laughing at silly jokes

or even nothing at all,

giving and receiving hugs,

getting an unexpected call;

making someone smile

who really wants to cry;

giving a little hope

to help someone get by;

hiking up mountains

the silence that ensues,

the sky in all its splendor,

the myriad glorious views;

piercing sounds of violins,

songs that touch my heart,

books that engage my mind,

beautiful works of art;

writing a piece that I like,

painting something, too,

drawing halfway decent,

learning anything new;

all the family together

around the dinner table;

making everyone’s favorites

the best that I am able.

In sum, these little things

and many more I’d say

make me so very happy

each and every blessed day.

I am day, I am night

I am dark, I am light

I am scars, I am fresh wounds

I am on key, I am out of tune

I am distorted, I am clear

I am bravery, I am fear

I am rain, I am fire

I am apathy, I am desire

I am sharp, I am dull

I am the clamor, I am the lull

I am broken, I am whole

I am relinquishment, I am control

I am outer turmoil, I am inner peace

I am imprisonment, I am release

©Heather Ann

#Poetry #Poem

After struggling to help,

Absolving to end alcoholism in my family,

For years and years,

Finally, I gained ground

In what seemed to be

A permanently downhill battle

After all the arduous fighting,

Bloody scuffles,

Terrible nightmares,

Finally, I felt a spark of triumph

After spending nights alone,

My eyes damp and stomach churning,

Anxiety festering within me,

Finally, my mother said to me

She would try to slow down on drinking,

To live a healthier, more fulfilling life

After so much strife,

Finally, I received the words

I dearly wanted to hear

Perhaps a small victory

In the grand scheme of life,

But still, a victory nonetheless

One I will always treasure,

No matter what

I have always been called by the same name,

I have seen it in pencil and in pen.

The one thing in my life that stays the same,

I see it over and over again.

No hesitation to look when I hear,

The familiar ring of my name aloud.

Oh, within the hollow depths of my ear,

There hovers that recognizable cloud.

Sometimes no one has recited my name

I glance into the silence for a while,

Although, standing there, is no one to blame,

I swear I heard someone, so I smile.

My name feels like orange but turns to blue,

Unique, spelled differently, then mundane,

It is something that we can not undo,

Unlike the many changes we sustain.

It is the one thing I hear every day,

My Name is the one thing that’s here to stay.

The lightning hit me in a wave, and I drowned in the brightness. And the fear propelled me. Blinded, short-breathed footfalls crashing across the heavy earth. The white, electric light had passed through me quick, stealing my sight as it left the empty room that I had let myself become. Doors like walls. No knobs. No hinges. And without my ability to see, what was left was muscles and lungs. Inhale and run. Anything to vanquish the unearthly light filling me. The blazing, electric current left me with a ghost image pressed tight against my eyes. Sharp fissures of light cutting through my familiar shadows. The nerve-ending memory of light. The insult to my injury. And me trapped inside with no way out. And panic squeezes my eyes shut to hide the phantom cloud flooding my lack of vision. And the apparition sits inside me. Me, all full of mirrors reflecting what I can’t quite escape. Me, desperate to abscond. Me, tearing unseeing, through the labyrinth of my caged in mind. Amaurotic. Sightless. Taking breathless flight. Haunted by an eidolic sun that I will never quite reach on these broken wings. That I will never catch with this bone-weary body and collapsing lungs.

He looks at me as if I was something he's never seen before. I wonder; how could someone be so amazed by me? Amazed by every flaw I have. Amazed by my own beauty that I even struggle to see at times. It's in that moment I realize... those eyes he see's me through are not mine. They are his. He see's me in a different light. I can't help but to wonder what I look like in his eyes. How green are my eyes to him, how does my skin look, what color is my hair and do I have smile lines? When he looks at me my heart begins to race, because I can feel the love being poured into my soul just by that single glance. Then he smiles. Man that smile of his is contagous; comforting in a way. I feel my cheeks heat up and I know I'm turning red. I giggle and look away. He brings his warm hand to my face and gently pulls me in for a kiss. Oh how I love those kisses. They will never get old. The love we have for each other no one will ever understand. It's a love so powerfull that no matter what happens it can not break. This love will never end and I'm so grateful to be with him. <3

i was a part of a family that loved me. they would humor my crazy thoughts and guide me in the right direction. they recognized the fire in me as the same fire that fueled them, and they taught me how to play with it. right as we were moving into the lessons that taught me how to control it, it ended.

the family was disbanded by men who needed the land we resided on. me and the other younglings ran through the property collecting tools to dissaude the challengers, and the only effective thing we could come up with was horse poop. the other options would've been too violent or not extreme enough. and it worked, for a while too. me and a hoard of eight to fifteen year olds would collect armfuls of horse shit and chuck it at the workers. me and renee and elizabeth would sneak off and break into their trucks and smear the shit on their steering wheels and seats. it bought our family an extra week to find new accomodations; and it increased the already palpable tension between the barn crew and the workers who were being paid to tear our barn crew apart. we loved our barn by the river, nestled between trees that had watched us all grow and knew the directions we liked the wind to blow.

i remember sitting with my family under those same trees crying as we watched the men take away the final dumpster-grave of our beloved home. my family became disbanded. we couldn't all find new barns together, and our paths parted. i remember what it felt like to feel apprehensive of the future, and i remember the pain from the countless efforts of trying to get a new barn crew to have that same familial sense. i am still, to this day, learning that the essence of a family is in each individual's commitment to helping all members of the family succeed. i am still, to this day, struggling to silence my indepedent nature that was needed to defend me in those times of loneliness; it's too loud, sometimes i need help, but it won't let me.

#thisprobablyisntwhatyouwanted #shouldihaveevenpublishedthis #whydidileavemybedtoday

the bitterness of a flower petal

is unmatched by both it’s

beauty

and

fragrance.

this unfortunate irony only exists

in a dichotomous world such as our own.

and in another place i imagine

lives a daisy whose fragrance

is more palatable than the

one you gave me.

-CLC