Morning

The sun wakes me up, spilling light on a rain-stained world, biting with orange into old buildings. The night goes away, sinking into nothingness, with the promise of return on its lips. And I love that moment between the inky darkness and the bright dawn. When the only sound is a cat’s quiet purr, soft claws dig into the pillow, while my eyes are half closed.

Spren

There is a place among trees, a lonely bench, old, a bit rusty, and unseen by people, that far aside it is. I used to sit there, when I was 10, reading fantasy books and parting myself from the world, as much as I could.

I was sitting there, sure no one sees me, living my pain silently, when the broken soul didn’t need words and human attention.

After four years, I returned there, to hold my memories for a bit in my hands. Sometimes, I feel like past is a burden, which holds me too close and too feverishly, making me dream about times that weren’t perfect, but I see only beauty in them, removing pain and sorrow with a rubber made of leaves.

Sometimes they heal. Sometimes they hurt.

I am feeling like gossamer lately, torn between past and today, too afraid to let go, and too comfortable to go forth.

Gossamer which dances lightly in the air, a wind fairy, following its element.

Dreamers

it slips through the pines
hungry shadow; its touch turns into ice
red as blood
white dream in crimson beads

I feel like I drift between realities. One chosen by heart and second forced into mind. The heart reality is filled with forests, wild, untamed and dark, my hair are black as night and my strange eyes glisten with unearthly gleam. I dance with fairies, I put glamour on mortals, I speak in the language of the birds.

But the second reality reminds me about itself with the world, which falls apart around me. My country is destroyed, my health will never be good, my finances are in awful state.

I want to stay in the first world, but I know I will fall, if I look into it too often.

This world is not for dreamers.

City Witch

I am a city witch
trapped in the prison made of steel and stone
eyes blinded by the earthly lights
senses filled with noise of the grey humankind

I am a city witch
finding my gods between today and tomorrow
on my own path to Midnight
night brims around me like a hungry sea

I am a city witch
my mind is my escape – my eyes see the wolf woods
filled with longing and desire
with passion and twilight wind

I am a city witch
and no city has power over me
eternal like deep caverns of time
unsated like forest where I belong