crows in pines

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really ripping it open these days. 

crawling inside caverns 

dewed ruby red.


recognizing involuntary patterns

aka: cycles. 


aka aka: winter. 


aka aka aka: death. 


withdrawing more and more from external noise, opinion, and advice. 

from the ego’s conditioned attachment to “success.” 

transmuting validation via recognition into fire.

ashes fall into a stream of courage. 

indiscernible from what it was before.   


becoming more and more myself in this way as i say no to what others suggest is the energy of the day, project onto me, ask me to process on their behalf.


returning to the cocoon of my making. 

tying my wrists to my desk. 

to shed more blood. 

more pain across pages 

that i’ve learned to accept are inherently flawed. 


to spread awareness of toxicity. 

it cannot be avoided. 

nothing can. 


al this running around, 

busying ourselves, 

turning a blind eye to death. 


death as the epitome of despair. 


when, in fact, we experience multiple deaths in a lifetime. 


aka: winter. 


aka aka: leaves falling, trees sleeping, a trance. 


death is as natural as breath. but, just like the breath, we forget about it. we focus on controlling, and scheduling, filling, and commitments. 


and i struggle all the same. to distance myself from the world i was brought into, forming a new world for myself, originating in my heart. 


the heart opens the mind. 


the heart operates on pure intention. 


so, i died another death. 

disoriented while floating.

birthed into a greater knowing. 

a deeper trust in timing and the way. 

a relinquishing of things that are not mine; spirit gave them to me. 


it is time to honor spirit’s omniscience. 

it is time to say, i know i don’t know.

but to breathe deeper all the same.