How to describe how I feel...

I feel like clicking those buttons was like cutting a tether.
One that had been fraying for some time now.
Growing nearly translucent,
but still gripping me tightly.
Holding me in an orbit that I'd been fighting for years.

Now that the tether is gone
I'm doing more than just turning away from the sickening light of his star.
Now I'm free to fully leave his presence.
To guide myself in whatever way I choose.
To float leagues and galaxies away if I wish,
and no longer feel the radiation he gives off eating away at me.

​I feel like I'm finally doing something that is wholly for me.
Cutting off something that was only rot and decay and pain.
Allowing myself fresh air,
and banishing the hovering sensation that he was always on the outskirts of my mind,
waiting for his next excuse to stride right in and make me question myself.

Hello, my nemesis. It's been a while.
I see you're just as pale and blank-faced as always.
Guess some things never change.


Oh, you're surprised I'm still here?
Did you think that just the sight of you would send me running?
Or freeze me solid before I even picked up a pen?


Well, I'll admit that I've had that reaction to you in the past.
It's true.
But I've decided that I miss our time together.
The ink spilt. The tears. The laughter.


Yes, quite a bit of it has been painful,
and I've definitely lost days of sleep over you...
But I can't let my fear and worry that I'll never be good enough beat me.
And you certainly won't either.


So go ahead.
Glare at me from between your lines.
Hiss at every touch of my pen.
Do everything you can to make me fear filling your blank pages.


You're not going to have much luck though.
I've decided I've got too much to say
to sit here mute at the sight of you.

So 50,000 words is just a hop, skip, and a month away!

I wonder what the weather will be like there...
Clear blue skies, a cloud or two, and nice not-to-cool weather?
I hope so.

It's gonna be a little while 'till we reach there.
So everyone fasten your seatbelts,
plug in your headphones,
and ready those spare pens and snacks!
We're gonna get those words out one way or another this month,
contractions or no.
So three, two one...
​Here we go!

How about we skip it tonight?

There's no need for the sounds of fists banging
on locked metal doors outside
or fists on cracked drywall.

How about we let the night decide the sounds?
Let whatever wind may blow guide our course
amidst the soothing chorus of crickets.
​
Let fears and memories of yesterday
fade into the background
while the marvels of our minds take the lead.

Whenever my fingers start typing or scribbling
I never know what's going to happen

They might drag me down through underground caverns lined with swinging blades
or lead me gently through flowered meadows to the sound of fae in flight

They might decide I'm in for a scare and toss a score of ghouls my way
or drop me neck-deep into a memory that's far beyond my sight

Either way, the urge to type and scribble is always nibbling at my mind
and even when I try to plan
I really never know what's going to happen.

Dice clatter and roll.
We're at the mercy of these
merry fiends of fate. 

The more ink that I pour from my hands
the thicker they feel, heavy with
a lack of motion, aching
with tendons all stretched taut,
drained of energy.
My stories take
What's freely
given
​them.

Is it strange that I mourn the breath
that I held in my chest just yesterday?

Dull and throbbing as it left,
breath escaping into June air that shouldn't be so cold.

It's awake still.
Waiting, tapping on my windowpane,
begging for yesterday's safety from the rain
that threatens to wash it down the drain,
away from the lungs that held it.
Felt it leave as all others had,
its brothers and sisters expelled to the air that made them.
These breaths that stain windowpanes
until the rain washes them away.

Why has just this one come back?
Why that puff of breath?
Does it hold more of me than all the others?

A piece ripped free and flung away to aerosol,
screeching from the other side of glass
that its end will be mine,
that unless I let it back inside
I'll die just as sadly,
as the stain washed from the windowpane.
A smudge rubbed away and forgotten just the same
as hundreds before it.

Do I listen to it?
Should I?
This muffled screeching warning from the other side of-

Oh. There's the rain, come finally.
Shining down the windowpane
​in silence.

I don't really know what day it is
the month or season
or phase of the moon

But I do know that my life is filled with wonderful people
kind smiles, loving words, and warm hugs
funny gifts, adorable animals, and stories

Really, what else could I ever ask for?

I revel in the dust motes
dancing in the sunlight
amidst the giggles of fae

glints of earth and sky alight
float around and above
without touching a mortal soul
but briefly drawing the eye
before our attention unwavers once more.

their flinty smiles have cut away my blindness
peeled away the attachments my forefathers forged

I've decided
that I enjoy their ever-shifting world far more
than this one of concrete

no, you can't come
unless they invite you along

but​ don't worry
maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them
and they'll grow to fancy you
​
maybe your graceful hands and pretty face
are exactly what they're craving