What is Growing in the Forest

I had to burn you out of my heart
and press your name to the underside
of a monarch butterfly’s wing.
A fir tree in Mexico now knows your
name and the seeds of possibilities
that I don’t want to remember anymore.
Thousands of miles away a forest is breathing
you in while a butterfly sleeps.
I’m sleeping thousands of miles away
forgetting your name.

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The Straw Man Diaries Part II

It’s the month of the dead
and there he is
still straw filled and
heartless.
The mice kept coming and gnawing
at his apple core heart.

But it’s okay, I tell crow.

No, he isn’t worth the roots of the scars
tangling your heart,
crow says.

But I’ve been digging and making myself smaller
so that he could be bigger. Crow could already
smell the bones popping out of my body.
And there are no gods here
just crow, straw, bones, the mud
and me.

Celebrating Litha Dancing the Dizzy Circles

around the basil burning bonfire
’til her head explodes-
soul visions sprouting
violent violet tendrils
while the fire whispers lullabies.

A Girl From the Fields and Pines

I used to pretend that I was not from the crawdad holes, the dandelions, and the
wheelbarrows of horse manure.
How hard I tried to hide the smell of clover, willow wreaths, and baby robin
feathers outside of my heart.
I packed these things in a metal lunchbox along with the stick forts, the chiggers, and grass stained knees
and buried it beneath a baby pine.
But buried things don’t stay buried forever.
Laughing at the lightning in the concrete jungle gave me away, and the way
that I could tell that a sunny summer day was about to throw a tantrum,
and the always saving earthworms from the sidewalks.
And one day I opened that rusty old box,
and I found my heart also inside stitched up with cicada skins and baby rabbit fur. (a girl will always try to revive the dead baby rabbits that the cats killed)

How I Became Water in the Forest One Night

The shadow people are taking away the stars
with nets in the sky,
wounding it with dark holes
and the scarred sky is crying.

These sky children trapped
in the cave they are dropped into,
broken and disillusioned,
forgetting their light.

They dwell there in the dark corners
and rocks, becoming. (becoming shadow people)
Forgetting their softness, becoming hard
and full of dark holes and cracks.

They also stole the moon and
placed her in that cave with
the lost children.
She found them and fed them dust and songs.

She reflected their missing light,
and showed them their strength.
They didn’t have to be shadows anymore.
If they didn’t want to be.

Become water to escape, the moon said.
Here on this earth as water
you can fill everything with love
and you cannot be caught with a net.

To_

We were like a mirror within a mirror
reflecting infinity into each other’s souls.
You felt like a home to me built of oceans
of star weeds and moon dust and the debris
of thousands of years of longing and alienation
finally stranded on the shores together.

But now I’m stranded there alone like a siren
calling out silently because I don’t want
anyone else to hear my songs, and so I collect
the sea trash at night and check the moon
puddles for your face, and I wait for you
while I whittle my bones into a shape that can hold you.

Metamorphosis of a Wizard Alien

I am an alien in this time line
on this earth in this human skin.
What is a human anymore?
I don’t even have to put my phone on silent.
Nobody is calling.
But I’m not calling anyone anymore either.
Disconnected from this time, this space, and this people.
Nothing is sacred anymore, and everything is fodder
for a few moments of instant gratification.
I’m not touching anything that feels like
skin of a person again.
I am not wizard alien enough yet to just go through skin
after skin and feel like a whole person.
Who gave me this heart that I don’t fucking need anymore?
It is scar tissue now, and barely beating a normal human drum.
But I don’t care anymore.
So take my heart as a sacrifice (scarred ball of knots that it is)
since I’m a person born at the wrong time in the wrong place
loving the wrong people
let me become a wizard alien who has no fucking heart,
and then maybe I can pretend to drive this body shell
with some kind of happiness and mingle with the other
body shells
so that I can sleep at 3 am and not cry myself
awake every day having to drink vodka with the
ghosts who are getting drunk off my tears.

The Straw Man Diaries Part I

The moon lied to you
the crow said
He’s shallow, look at how easily he floats.

We fished him, crow and I, from the creek
out back.

No he’s not
I said
he’s just full of holes.
He wasn’t always this way.
Watch how I can stuff him
full again.

I took golden straw, dandelion heads,
and bits of my tears
and packed this deep into his
heart hole.

I stuck him under the willow tree
for three moons
so the creatures and fae could bless
him and eat the rotten parts off.

The Path to E minor for an emPath

Put me in the rocks
I will build me a home.
Rocks as a child.
Rocks as a woman.
Hide my face.
Hide my soul.
All those buckets of soul
sludge that
the others dump onto me
I throw into the shale and lime
stones mixed with my blood and threads of soul
and tell the creek to wash
it all away from me
before I am not me anymore….

Dodging the Land Mines

I’ve burned sigils into the astral planes
with my obsidian heart
hoping to find that other flame
that dances with mine.