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[amorningxundone]

"My bestie's a spider; I forgot to burn down the house." or "Codependence."

I.

Off in the corner of some quiet town, docked a ship with its cracking bow.

A weathered passenger watched the land and only blinked when a spider said:

The world is large and quite suspect it could be nice to wander with friends,

your space is small and stinks of hue but set that aside and I think you will do.

Grant me shelter, the crawler begged; What's yours is mine are we not friends?

The voyager slouched, considered the offer, while the stranger, it waltzed right through to her coffer.

II.

Well, the girl looked down at her weathered ribs and wondered when had such seclusion crept in.

So busy she was poking and prodding at newfound notions, at friendship and lodgings;

she found it mattered less and less if the spider stayed or made its mess;

She could sweep up its dirt into her martyr's chest, cradle its misdeeds and arrogance;

She could sweep up its webs and skeletons, call its vitriol venom-less.

[amorningxundone]

In the shadow

of an overheated sun

my soul atrophies

while the buried heart stirs

in snow and ice

incubating, biding

its rotting prime, a withering

shell of bones

and time.

“I crave dying.” — AXI

[amorningxundone]

From the basking banks

of our damned lake

some causative void did offer:

a Venusian citizen

with a crustacean’s heart

and her eurypterid lover.

The reaver with mislaid instincts

and her glaring appetite

carved a maze of fairy rings

then plundered in plain sight

an archive of forgotten things—

some fettered, fake delight;

As the man waded in the detriment

of an overheated planet, whose

beguiled cries meant to invite

their long dead requite-ment,

the promise of another life

watched from its glass casket.

“The Crab and the Scorpion” — AXI

[amorningxundone]

The life beneath my skin

bleeds out

from these new legs

and my heart

beats in the space entwined

by our fingers and palms

breathing

with the walls of this room;

It’s me and you—

your soul too willingly offered

and my neck chained

to a cage

built with a guise

of friendship

and the effacement

of an old regret;

Buried like a curse

our tell tale memory lurks

under floor boards

for the next generation

of naivety:

a still learning boy

and his soon to be

tragic misstep.

“The maple wood house and its magnolia tree” - AXI

[amorningxundone]

You stared at me from the driver’s side,

eyed me with the thought of blind faith

as it crawled up your throat to voice

an opinion I wish you’d keep tucked away

like my nose in this book; you grin like

the Cheshire, knowing exactly what sort

of cliche metaphor sits in the glowing screen,

phone hot against the lines of my palm;

Like the persuasion branded on your tongue,

like the tear stains still wet on your couch,

I’ll leave this book in its virtual shelf with

Wentworth frozen on a ship, lost at sea;

with all the agony of Anne Elliot—unfinished;

Virtually unrequited, more like it; And here

We are, a fairytale of the worst kind: Cursed

by the stars; souls to touch, never to twine.

“Karmic” - AXI

[amorningxundone]

I can feel you in the ground

your quiet love

and

my beating

obsession.

“summer” - AXI

[amorningxundone]

I married my melancholy early

stood in a white dress

staring at my folly

as it drained

down my throat;

I loved my faults in undeserving men

balked at deviant

kindness, unsuspecting—

surely an

intrusion;

I praised the coldness in the shadows and

wondered at my heart,

its beating, and the heat

of my skin

burning loud;

I never shed tears for reality,

but rather dropped stones

in my gut, sinking too

soundly for

comfort.

“30” — AXI

[amorningxundone]

There’s another life

where this ground cradled

the bits of my soul

I cannot find

likes stones

rough to touch

plain and dirty

left behind, buried

unnoticed

and I can feel

them beneath

my feet, beckoning.

“in between valleys” -AXI

[amorningxundone]

cold water beckoning

calling to my soul

open and warm

a polarizing

set of soaring actions

let the tide pull me

in its waves of

ice inviting as

the moon reflecting full

and mischievous

its shimmering

peaks a guiding light.

“I miss the ocean in winter” — AXI

[amorningxundone]

"I may think of you softly from time to time. But I’ll cut off my hand before I ever reach for you again."

//Arthur Miller, The Crucible: A Play in Four Acts

[amorningxundone]

[amorningxundone]

Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.

Edgar Allan Poe

[amorningxundone]

can I just say hades is giving virgo/capricorn sun with a scorpio in venus energy

bc he definitely is

“For Hades is mighty in calling men to account below the earth, and with a mind that records in tablets he surveys all things.”  — Aeschylus

[amorningxundone]

poetry is

the tattered

taut

remains of a

single moment

a season

of life owned by

you

as equally

inflexible

it’s the dying

body you left

and

the daffodils

that grow from it

it is the peak

of how I loved

you

but it is not

all of the ways.

“my pomegranate heart” — AXI

[amorningxundone]

poetry is

the dying body

you left

behind

and the flowers

that grow

from it.

“poetry is taffy pulling” - AXI

[amorningxundone]

Haunted

by a fear of death

or something like it

all the while success lays

just feet away

constructed at every turn

I bury myself

in something new

dying

unfinished.

“the winchester house” -AXI

[amorningxundone]

A will

written

with a knife

of my own

making, gutting

open

the gilded ribcage

of a life

lived in

secrets—

not mine,

Yours.

“estate planning” — AXI