Author Archives: Sarah

The Siren

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I am a sandy beach.
I am wetwater.
I am alive alive alive
And I don’t care who knows it.
I am flaming red hair and toothy grins and purring cats and silliness
I am a wonderful thing, a thing of veins and blood and bones and wild energy
I am eternal, agnostic, atheistic, apotheostic
Knuckling to the floor
Launching myself at the TV screen
An animal
Just an animal

I sing
High clear notes that pierce
Straight to the heart
Any listener might be deceived
Might think me a tremendous soul
Drawn in by my siren song
Silly fools
Cold crayfish and starfish and seahorses
Canned potatoes and processed cheese
Are not enough to feed a siren.
I need someone with meat and red living flesh
I need something that kicks.
I need you.
I can taste your skin
Sweet salt sweat
I can taste your fear
Like stainless steel
I can taste your groan
It ripples down my throat.
I Iive for this,
Your exquisite death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Higher

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It’s been a while since I’ve drawn something just for the hell of it. It’s also been a while since I used charcoal. Fun was had. Mess was made. Perfectionism writhed underfoot and tried to nip my ankle. It’s still being squashed there now. Shush, you. Imperfect art is interesting art.

 

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Sparkle trees

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When the trees are glossed in ice
and the sun glances through them with rising fire
They bat the light back and forth, a plaything
And I think
AAAAAAAAAAA THE TREES ARE SPARKLY!!!
*eyes bulge*

 

Sorry. Poetry is just too grandiose, my brain can’t go there when all that’s running through my tiny mind are oh my fucking god the trees are sparkly, sparkles sparkles sparkles. I’ve regressed. Just in typing this, I’ve keyboard smashed so much that I accidentally opened up a bunch of weird windows for which I didn’t know there were keyboard hotkeys, like an HTML debugger. If it’s not what the sparkles have done to my brain, it’s what the cold has done to my fingers.

 

Here’s something random. My boyfriend writes songs for fun. Every once in a while I’ll sing one of his songs for him. Hopefully these blues will gently bring us all back down from the sparkle high.

 

 

Weather monsters

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I think there are giants outside

Trees with frozen fingers drag their unfeeling claws over my roof

Something clatters, rattles bangs.

The freezing rain has brought them.

Weather carries monsters in its wake.

When humans stay fearfully inside their homes,

Creatures of fancy cavort in the open air.

 

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