YokeForest knots sway aboveYoke by ~TaraSwanwing
he strains ahead, back bent
bowing beneath his load of woes.
“Pardon me, madam,”
he gazes up at me with bright eyes
dimmed by taxing labour
“ Would you be so kind,
as to take on a piece
of this bitter weight of mine?
I fear I will not make it a step farther
under this heavy burden.”
The ropes bite into my flesh
the man straightens, a weak grin spreading across his face.
How long before he leaves me behind
just like all the others?
Their cares crack the yoke crushing my spine
their light-hearted laughter trails back through the forest's
The Well He never was much for talking, unless I had done something wrong. I always did something wrong. So why wasn't he scolding me now? It's very dark outside; he just grabbed me out of bed and pulled me out into the night. I can hear the trees whispering above me. Maybe Chloe will find me and hide me in her branches; she always rubs creamy salves on my bruises after he-The Well by ~TaraSwanwing
“Teacher? Where are we going?”
The hacking sound I recognize as his breathing catches. “I have been too lenient; mayhap the Queen will forgive me for my errors.”
“Teacher? Did I do something-”
Bony hands clench around my collarbone, forcing m
Paint JarsSeeping through the fence posts ofPaint Jars by ~TaraSwanwing
this biological barrier instilled in me
the colours of sensations bold and bright, but leaking,
smearing into one another dripping down to plop on my cheeks
staining them like multi-hued tears.
Fill in the borders of
these designs laid out before me
colours remain in their dimension, flat and reliable
not swirling amongst each other as eye-breaking dashes of
pink and yellow green and blue come sliding off my chin onto
the sheet of paper, so simplified.
Emotions buried by the chaotic clamouring of
movement leaving trails in my consciousness
thoughts waylaying my vision in this mire of the rainbow
Evening The sliding sound of rubber against plastic resounds clearly through the twilight air as I open the window. Wind shivers the branches of the beech tree on the corner; its leaves curve together, dark against the grey-blue sky arcing over us. My breath echoes out of my chest, effortless, my conditions forgotten in this sublime moment of clarity, though my glasses lie on the dresser, my desire for undiluted truth overshadowing my flawed vision. The forest before me stands, silhouetted, a paper cut-out for this marvellous play. Yet the paper is alive, alive as the tree beside me, their compounds diluted, compressed, the elements splayed out befEvening by ~TaraSwanwing