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A poem of mine called Highway was published in Brainchild’s 2024 issue.

They let me read it at the launch. 🤍✍🏼

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My total solar eclipse pictures from April 8th.

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Happy book birthday to my book child! 🤍 My lil rhyming poetry collection is still available as a paperback and ebook on Amazon. 🤍

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Maybe my superpowers will finally arrive during this total solar eclipse.

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source

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“The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die.”

— Juliette Lewis

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Sunday

On Sunday night, no one suspected a thing. It’s because at one point, I had visioned white and satin and lace, trail behind me but then it was dark. Now all that’s left is a damp black turtle neck and a steady flow of blood. No one suspected a thing. I wore a smile and fooled everybody when I walked in. I took my time hugging each of them, as the plum and burgundy liquid glided from my chest, down my stomach, creating a reflection pool on the floor of the bar. I hoped that if I pressed my chest into them tight enough, the pressure would be enough to clot the blood or sooth the ache or wake me up from my new reality. Then it was dark and no one suspected a thing. I could feel the burn of peach crown cauterize the broken skin as it moved down my tongue, through my throat, and into my chest. I couldn’t stop. The alcohol overpowered the sting of where his hands gouged through my chest cavity with just his finger nails. No one suspected a thing.

The night got dimmer and quicker and flashier and messier. One sip turned into $70 that I wasn’t charged but I sure drank it. No one suspected a thing until I said it out loud, “how could he have done this to me?” My whisper interrupted the conversation as the salt water began to run down my chin. The last thing I remember was all of them lunging at me, and then it was dark.

No one suspected a thing, I don’t think but I was on my knees in the bathroom while the bartender fixed my lipstick, “men are trash” she said. Her words echoed inside of my skull, and then it was dark. The night air on my face made my tears feel like ice, I watched my shoes sway the way the world did. At least ten people stood around me, as I sat on the curb in a pool of blood, with my broken heart until it was dark. No one suspected a thing.

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“The moment you feel like you have to prove your worth to someone is the moment you absolutely and utterly have to walk away.”

— Alyssia Harris

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The hours I have spent with a clogged pause between my heartbeats and a head full of visions of getting exactly what I want have gone by like a flash of lightning and a storm.

- Let go.

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Steer clear of friends, family members, colleagues, or lovers who make you feel ashamed for doing something that once made you happy.

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“If you hesitate between me and another person don’t choose me.”

— Unknown

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There's Still Magic in the Morning

I woke up in the early hour of 6 AM to the pitter-pattering of raindrops on my windowsill. Anytime this music plays, I cannot help but smile while I stretch from underneath my bed sheets. The first thought that crossed my mind was, "Get up". I had fallen victim to the habit of sleeping in -- even when I wasn't tired, and I had fallen asleep at a decent hour the night before. I'd sleep in simply because society said it was too early for someone who didn't have school or work that day, to be awake.

I had forgotten how much getting up and drinking my coffee meant to me.

While abroad, I remember the tiniest pit of excitement in the depths of my stomach that would emerge when I would wake up WAY before my alarm, just as the morning light had started to show through the curtains. The excitement remained even on the days I missed home, and even on the days I was sleep-deprived and needed the sleep. There is just something inspiring about starting fresh with each new rotation of Earth.

Today in particular, though, was very exciting.

"If I get up now I can listen to the rain while I drink my coffee", I thought.

So I did.

I couldn't decide between coffee or a bagel, so I got both simultaneously. I don't typically eat breakfast with my coffee. I usually get the coffee first and then eat.

. . .

I'll leave you with this silly lil' poem I wrote, pre-any writing class ever, about how the morning makes me feel . . .

There's Magic in the Morning

There's magic in the morning. It's the bright light at the end of your sleep. When your eyelids are strong and rested, and you counted all the sheep. The strength, to stretch your yesterday away, didn't come from inside the walls. That sort of energy comes from your insides, you see. Now go on, your morning magic calls.

There's magic in your coffee, and a bay leaf in your tea. Stir your intentions clockwise, and watch as you plant your seeds. Rise and shine, my darling! This day will surely bring.. all your wishes granted, before you count to three. Remember the universe hears you, so make all of your secret thoughts worth while. For all you send, comes back to you, three times the first pile.

Your day is off to a great start, I told you, there's magic in your veins. Now, make each step a golden one, and work through all your pains. Practice makes perfect, and if you try again, you'll soon succeed. The stars shine strictly for you, the universe will fill your needs.

Now go pick a wand from that tree, it's branches have been calling you all year. Put all your magic into it, the night of the full moon is growing near.

Now yes, it does sound easy, but that's the tricky misconception, you see. Not very many humans are capable of making a magic wand from a tree. Command your sacred forest, and move the clouds with just your eyes. Your magic will guide you on your journey, through your dream filled skies.

From the crisp leaves of autumn to the baby sprouts of spring, the witches rise each day to see it, and the magic they will bring.

_________________________________

Lucy

[loustellaperry]

Not me visiting Fagradalsfjall volcano only days before it erupted. 🌋 I didn’t get any photos too close to the edge but all that black stuff is lava from last year’s eruption. & you can’t tell, because it kind of just looks like Austin is sitting right next to a small stream of lava, BUT it’s like hundreds of feet down and he’s just sitting on the very edge and that’s a very large stream of lava.

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My thick and smokey thoughts were reigning over my eyesight until I opened an Oscar Wilde piece. I am once again inspired.

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Some photos from climbing Arthur’s Seat, an ancient Volcano in Edinburgh, Scotland & random pretty mountain clips from driving through the Scottish Highlands.

The dates range from June 22nd - 24th.

As usual, here is a small entry from my travel journal… (I added random thoughts as the day progressed).

24 June 2023

Only just now realizing, as we’re driving through a mountain range of the highlands of Scotland, that I’ve been drawing these scenes since I was 6 years old. They look exactly the way, I drew them.

You can see the water in tiny streams, getting smaller and smaller, the further up the mountain. It’s just a reflection off the sky.

There is no way to describe how small I feel between the vastness of these mountains.

Thoroughly convinced this place is Eden.

Loustella Perry

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Photos from the Sky Lagoon in Kópavogur, Iceland, accompanied by a small entry from my travel journal.

27 June 2023

I feel like I can start again. I feel like I get a fresh start at life. Everything’s new. Every hellish time I’ve ever had, God has righted with this trip. Everything is bliss. I sat by the water and wrote poetry in my head and realized nothing’s bad.

Loustella Perry

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We Pressed Play at the Same Time: A Conversation

I asked him three times, just to be sure. Into The Wild was two and a half hours long and it was already 11 pm. He insisted.

Of course, lately, I despised doing tasks alone, and watching a creepy movie on my laptop in my empty bedroom, just seemed horrible for my brain. I sent him the link and we decided to call.

“Wait is this based on a book?”, he asked. I’m not sure,

“It is, it is!”

We counted to three and pressed play at the same time. “what’s the time on yours? Mine skipped”

“00:27, 28, 29”, he began counting in unison with me to make sure we were on the same second.

We were quiet through a lot of it, occasionally making a comment about actors we knew.

. . .

I know this motherfucker is going to die.

“I’m not going to tell you what happens. But I think the van is still there.”

The what?

. . .

Ah! Nononono! I paused it on accident”, “It’s okay! hit play”.

“1:13, 14, 15, 16”,

okay cool.

We agreed that Chris should’ve probably stayed with the hippies, “He had a loving family, got to see the world, and would’ve had a wife in a few years”.

. . .

I know it wasn’t really him, but his lifeless eyes staring into the sky stabbed at my chest. Silence fell on both ends of the phone. I loved that so much, “I prefer tragedies”.