31 days of songpoems

*The desert is in my veins. Not sure why, or how or when—it just is. The ocean, though full of currents and froth and mystery—does not cast a shadow; does not cause my depths to surface. Flatlands by Chelsea Wolfe became my lullaby when I lived alone in early 2013. It was my first time being alone, free. I became self-destructive because I still had some purging to go through. But, when I felt soft, tender and heavy—this song lulled me to sleep. It held me, the way I hoped someone would.    


In the dark, a swell of paws caress,

a timid tepid autumn peeks through breath,—

a chill slows the pulse, 

the speed of night 

breaks the spell, 

night ignites the lobe— 

I talk of bones as pillars 

outstretched, 

soft in the breeze

a feral exhalation of disease

t o 

s l e e p