My fingers swept across their hips as a paintbrush.
Warm colors, soft firmness, a pull to the other side.
Whispering in my ear, I'll never leave you.
Our hair tangled like tree branches that children climb.
Up and up.
Flower petals sprinkling with delicacy that counters the flame I set to their bed.
Catching the curtains, crawling up the walls.
Delving deeply into that manic place I covet, embrace, then hide.
All the avidity, vibrant then black, then back.
Develop us like film.
Drown me in this stop bath.

-Saree Nyxi

Writing your name on ribbons that I tie to our magnolia.
A bind.
Let me have this one last time,
breathing heavy
before I run again.
Falling like the soft pink
that helps you find your way,
and the warmth, coaxing between my thighs.
Fingers twirling in my hair.
Don't forget I'm the one that takes you there.
Pressing on my lips, the way the thick air has done.
Writing your name in rising neons from my morning sun.

Saree Nyxi
042517

In droves, crawling through like swaying calla lilies.
Drinketh from thy chalice.
Sunday's best.
Oh the blood, spilling from her mouth and down her dress.
Manic smiles smeared across their face..
Hands out the car window, my hair is reaching through to you.
Daddy, I'm driving to the sea.
Pull them off their cross for me.
Oh these reigns, heavy as can be.
These echoing songs, can you hear me singing out?
Never asked for, but taking with stride,
outside, I'm being pulled from the inside.
Such grace.
On knees, just a taste.
to save face.
Awaken like the wind in spring, fresh breath.
Oh you, sweet little thing.

Saree Nyxi
040217

If I let go, I may turn to stone.

Eye contact and breaking contracts.

I'm running alone,

In misty fields at midnight.

I will stay in my silence.

I can not peel layers you hide behind,

spent my life stripping my own.

No calls, no dreams.

The sky, she lied to me,

mapped me into dead ends.

Roping down my rainbow halo.

Drunk off false hope's energy.

neon martyr

When you've reached rock bottom there is only one way left to go.
Up.
No need to rush, take your time.
Feel each step and thank the universe for letting you take these breaths.
Do not manifest negativity in a circle of protections that were cast with you in mind.
Implosions are your own undoing.
Ravel the thread back to your beginning.
Rebirth. Fresh lungs
Find your heart.
Start there.
Blessed be.

September

The path to self actualization is not an easy cleared out path that has been paved. It is a thick forest, the wandering woods.

With swarming insects, foreboding quicksand, and packs of howling wolves running through dusk set skies.

On this path you'll find spiraling streams though, where lush blooming flowers climb, reaching to the knowing sun.

You will find clearings where fawns frolic and rabbits burrow into soft dens they've built on their own.

You will come face to face with your own pack, your own choices to go along until their path ends or faces down different directions.

The howling was a call, a "Goodbye, Good luck and Be well."

The insects carrying ten times their own weight creating bridges from dawn to the setting suns over quicksand to help lead the way.

Vines like swings to trapeze you into action, and soft leaves to slumber.

Sometimes to wallow, sometimes to pour doubts from your eyes as you stare at the clouds above the maze we are learning.

You will remember in dreams, voices of seas you must reach, maps on the stars shining through blanketed skies.

You will tend to your path and become it.

With or without those you may have set forth with.

This is your own soul that collects then cleanses like a set of fresh lungs.

Nurture it.

Lift it with pride in all your choices weaving into intricate rainbow casting webs. Catch yourself in the fern laced safety you can create, and seek those that journey the way you do, the way you must.

Seek what sets your soul into motion, and flow forward in hand dug streams that water the life you create.

Wherever change occurs, meet it head on then plant your seeds to carry on.

Become.

S.M.

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