Prologue ~

I approach the door I see in my dreams. The shifting dreams I've had for the past few nights. Sometimes its the same door, sometimes it's new. So each night, I focus and describe it in this journal The door, so that one night I can choose.

Glass Door

A frozen bubble, that's all I can think to describe it.

As I walk around, I let my fingers glide over its smooth surface.

Looking through, I can see a warmth, but just enough that I know im also seeing through the structure.

Its tall, so that as I let my mind wander, my hands travel up and travel down, walking and playing towards its end.

But its a circle, so it has none, until my fingers flinch and withdraw

My blood illuminating a small indent, flowing, thinning into spirals and sanguine highlights

The door is before me, calmly pulsing with my blood outline.

“So” I say to the door “You're a hungry one”

It must have heard, or maybe it was ready to open. I don't know, but it did.

Within, the glass, was a rainbow sun. Rippling with spiking shards of fractured screaming geometry.

The tiny, sharp star, was aglow of anguish made tempered glass Erupting and falling into itself like prism

Like a focus and a distraction A god of intricate deadly planning

I had opened its door, scared I opened my eyes

The words hung in my ears as close as my thudding heartbeats

“I'm starving”

#poetry #doors

Even when the night was clear the clouds hung just on edge as if waiting for the starlight to lose humility, just enough and give them allowance to this a most special night.

But so far so well.

The moonlight was shining The starlight was glamouring The winter chill had finally dimmed

A quiet, hush flung itself across the chilled lake.

As, the smallest of creatures began Like sparks from waxing of a candle flame Made their ways From the inside places, cold places, of the oldness of the world.

Shyly at first they bleed out onto the lake Then more, they grew, finally confident in their steps.

The flowed onto the lake, taking their places.

So began a dance, that no one saw underneath the winter solstice moon.

#poem #poetry

It is thought, not act—that is our undoing.

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Kindness is the night carrying you in ether I lie awake within undone, undressed
 by thought alone.

Wonder where you rest
— when wanting hums songs upon the skin, tattooed words unsaid mirrored head to head.

Hands wander, feeding quiet aches— beneath, within, where breath grows thin.

Carried you are like heat against the thigh— uninvited, relentless, unconfessed.
 bleeding over and into peace stirred to rupture.

practiced calm, possessed by silence, while a body learns to lie.

others see the face, not how pulse obeys thoughts not yours but of you— closeness becoming burn.

-

Twas once said: 'Truth need not be safe— your reality was reward.' 
So here I am, the boy— restraint frays and frays nights bleed to days.

Bright and deep no return down glowed amber and gold, let touch be what we learn: when the spark erupts there is no choice, only the waking night.

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#confession #essay #story # journal #poetry #wyst #poetry #100daystooffset #writing #story #osxs #spain #travel