anya

she/they!! avid lesbian

[faeor1e]

She Who Is Fallen Must Rise

she who is fallen must rise from the ground

from where she has been cast out

from where she’s landed

the in between of doubt

falling down from the heavens

wings splintered and mangled

loss of the title

needing to be disentangled

a fallen angel

no longer on her pedestal

revered and now feared

shameful, broken

unacceptable

any wish she had of fixing what is broken

was splintered and mangled like her wings

when she fell from the heavens above

and into the in between

and now she must rise

up to her feet, off from her knees

to visualize what humanity shall be

she must seize her chance

and rise

rise, humanity’s angel

bear arms

bear truth

swear you will fight back

atone and repent but you need not soothe

a broken angel brought upon our blight

awoken by our cries

rise, crestfallen

rise and fight

[faeor1e]

Vicious

my jaws only clamp down because i am called vicious.

if i was not titled what i am i would not grind my teeth, 

shatter your bones with my incisors. 

my mouth would not fill with blood

if you were not imagining it already full.

[faeor1e]

Cataclysmic

bow. 

bow before all that you have caused, 

bow before all that has been wrought. 

a catalyst in the face of a catastrophe,

bow because it is the only thing you can do, 

the only thing that your muscles will when you cannot will 

for yourself.

before me you stand

before me you must kneel

touch to the ground with a struggle carved into your face;

heel.

your cataclysm has backfired 

and your muscles will no longer listen

reap the disaster you once desired

feel the quakes and fissions

the earth is quaking, and you have brought it down, 

your crown has toppled.

now bow.

[faeor1e]

Crying Wolf

i cry wolf and shout my lungs out into the sky

it’s broken up by the air

and tossed away

because my cry is never meant to be heard

they’re keeping it away from those who need to hear it

they’re telling me that i shouldn’t cry wolf no longer

the wolf is wearing the sheep’s clothing

but my sheep is wearing the wolf draped around her head

it’s blood is creeping down her eyelid-less eyes

she doesn’t even blink

the ovular pupils of her eyes 

prey-like and deceiving

are narrowing

into slits

because she’s staring

and she’s watching

and she rips our tongues from our mouths

until we can’t try to talk 

even if we wanted to

[faeor1e]

These Wings

different

not…left out

just avoiding the vociferous

yes, feeling doubt

and maybe, it tries to ruminate

but it dissipates

and leaves this feeling of difference

i can’t help but present as indifferent

to the pestering and concern

of those who ask to be kind

of those who yearn to understand what they cannot

because i am feeling prickles at my back, throes of lack

they’re growing

oh god, why was i so unknowing?

they, being feathers

tethers inside my skin

snapping

they grow, with a grin

proud, leaving their trapping

like they’ve left the difference behind, 

like they’re no longer my kin

but i yank them back

force them to retract

for these wings i am growing

keep me knowing 

that i am different

not allowed to be the vociferant

so yes, i am “unique”

“special”

“one out of three”

“the youngest”

“smallest”

for i am just one out of three 

successful-people-to-be

i just want to be free

am i unknowing? or am i just me?