alternative D.P. with changed POV, bc I suck & wrote myself into a corner. So here you go.
Parent text: here
The call saved me from kennel cleaning. Thank God to whoever rang.
I sat in my mock-ffice, in the nook between a dresser that was a stand-in for a kitchen counter, the wall, and a bunk-bed. Across the half breakroom, half guestroom was a real office, and it belonged to Ranger Mark Smith. I tried to listen to the call he just received in the most casual way I could manage without falling over. To be honest, all I had to lean on, was a white plastic folding table behind a cardboard stand with an assortment of fliers and educational pamphlets about the fauna and flora, as well as general information about campgrounds, and some new pencils. Yay. Continue reading “Devil’s Peak (alt 1)”
The Hunt rises, shy at first, she flashes a smile
bright and milky above the star light’s exile
shapes grow solid, fog turns to trees and hills
Isn’t this how the world gets its thrills?
Continue reading “Many Names”
Once, I saw a man standing by a lake,
Hands by his side, dipped in ache.
His alabaster glass skin glowed blue,
confusion and regret, a heart too true, Continue reading “Under The Armor”
there is a spot in every human heart
a place where the beats start
where a sacred fire burns so hot
that time itself is blazed’n caught Continue reading “how to become a dragon”
there is this house between the lime trees
an old man with a black dog lives there
and on the collar, it carries a bunch of keys
listen – a distant jingle in the cold night air Continue reading “the other”
a woman walked the woods by a moonlit pond
her golden robe, hair’n scales in glistening blonde
she searched land and lake- on the silver line
her steps placed on the ridges of water’s spine
Continue reading “the heart of a fey”
A cave hums into life,
as if filled with millions of bees
Glowing wandering Liongoddess
shines her eyes into the dark, Continue reading “hidden”
a drowsy little witch, with eyes like the angry sea
dressed in crimson, mouth shaped like a plea
she walked down the road to the black forest
right into its darkest, to a circle of fairy rocks Continue reading “little red riding hood”
DARLING, SWEET, DON’T YOU KNOW?
Why do you wear only black?
Nothing will bring
Why do you cry yourself to sleep?
Love is something beastly steep?
Why do you call your hurts your only home?
You made it an art form, a syndrome …
Why do you keep looking back?
Nothing can change you back!
Don’t scratch your ear with that paw!
Bleck your fangs darlin’, move your jaw.
I think wolfsbane is your only hope…
Or you’ll be your whole life a misanthrope