it's a heist

"You didn't say you don't swing that way." Ronan was silent. Thunder growled under his feet. "No, I didn't." main @ ofwoodsandwaves

[discardedtwigs]

it took you years to learn him and minutes to unknow him, the fragile balance of your heart shattered, and the love in his eyes melting away as you did not follow him into the longest night.

now you don’t believe in learning people, but when you meet her, she feels like a long forgotten song, lyrics you can’t recall but an air you can’t stop humming. she walks her own path in the dusk, and you never know if she’s falling or flying. your days always easier than your nights, waking up panting, dreaming of the road not taken.

she gets to know you, day by day you see in her eyes how she files away every little thing you do and can’t help but notice the things she already knows, even though you haven’t let yourself be in years.

ever since he left.

at night you worry about her path joining up with his, about her following him into the longest night, making the choice that you couldn’t. she is already fully in the dusk and you can’t seem to pull her into the dawn, no matter how much light you pour into her hands, it seems to completely disappear into a timeless void.

little did you know.

one dusk, she leaves, walks away on the space between sundown and moonrise, and you know you will never see her again.

but at daybreak she returns, and behind her he stands, his eyes unknown to you yet, but his hands glowing with your light.

MEET YOU AT FIRST LIGHT — Linn D.

[discardedtwigs]

i’m sorry — Linn D.

[discardedtwigs]

in the deep well of my loneliness, i weep for the joy of loudly calls and hopeful sighs, for the days where the sun never faded  and the nights where the moon never dimmed. in the deep well of my loneliness, i pray for the sovereign glee of a friendly note, the heavenly balm of a woodland trek and the healing air of a waterways odyssey. in the deep well of my loneliness, i mourn for the joyous garden of my blissful youth, for the cobblestoned streets of my bright future and the overeager flush of my keen mind.

what else will you take from me? Linn D. (via discardedtwigs)

[discardedtwigs]

but what do they know of love? ii — Linn D.

[discardedtwigs]

he said, if the world ends tonight what would you do? she said, i would eat the monster’s heart he was kneeling at her feet, as his heart demanded she was looking down on him, her eyes mocking the youthful yearning of his restless hands she did not know how to say, i need you because she did not know how to be anything but lonely and he did not know how to say, i love you because he had always feared the whims of another’s heart she saw the monster and he saw the beast both aching for the company, their blood  coursing with the need for whatever love beasts and monsters can feel for each other he said, what if i devour this world tonight? she said, i would feast with you

but what do they know of love? — Linn D. (via discardedtwigs)

[discardedtwigs]

THE VOID AND THE LONELY AROUND A CAMPFIRE — Linn D.

[discardedtwigs]

the house croaks and squeaks with the waves of her heart meanwhile she cries under the covers and eats with her bones she’s gotten good at speaking to the ghosts of the crypt she regrets the knife in the wall but the wall regrets the blood in the wood and the house regrets the rotting pieces in the attic, the chainsaw regrets the rust deep in the blue lit garage with the purple dynamite snow falls over the salted drive and the window glass paints a murderous tableau the neighbors called the police and the police called god and no one came and no one knocked and no one was invited and the house prefers it that way

on wednesdays she texts another god and god answers on tuesdays in waves of static and the tv’s never turned off because the dog can’t come in if there’s no door on sundays the goats sound the bells for mass and the church storms out the priest emails a different god and when they answer back the crypt’s choir sings the end of the week

she texts the house if she can come back home after mass and the house emails god number #2 and the tv static spits out shrodinger’s dog and she stabs another wall and there’s more blood in the wood but the walls won’t drink up and here she cries again, in her mess of galaxy patterned blankets

SHE LIVES IN CORRUPT WOOD — Linn D. 

[discardedtwigs]

watch starboy fall, watch the sun rise — Linn D.

[theindulgentzine]

The Indulgent Zine is looking for submissions! Submissions are now open for its November issue under the theme summer’s end.

The Indulgent Zine is an online monthly poetry zine run by Linn D, it is built around softness, upon the idea that love and care can mend our brokenness. The Indulgent Zine will be published on Issuu every 5th of the month starting in November 2017. 

Submission rules

Submissions are open until October 20th.

Poems must be sent to [email protected] as a pdf file and be over a 100 words and under 1500 words. 

Subject of email must be “Indulgent Zine submission: summer’s end”. Authors may not send more than 3 submissions per month. Authors must include their pen names as well as a three lines bio written in third person. 

header credit

[discardedtwigs]

i remember the day my wings left me locked inside my bedroom they shattered hand – arm – shoulder / wing

ichor running up my back dripping up to the very heavens i was no longer a hero no longer holy, no longer divine

i was a tragic girl who would never fly again i hadn’t known then, that kissing a girl had a price

yet still she kissed me, unholy  the skeleton of my wings haunting me until i ground them into dust, ate myself whole

I live with the phantom ache and her solid kisses –– Linn D.

fill for promptay sunday #1

[discardedtwigs]

Words are important. We define ourselves by words, our names, our ages, the words we use to talk about ourselves, bodies and minds. Words are so important to us and our sense of selves that a lack of words feels like a lack of self.

But I want you to know that just because you don’t know the words for yourself doesn’t mean you are not yourself, words are not the most important when it comes to who you are. Words change, words lose meanings and gain new ones.

So you’re a girl and you see a girl bite her lip and you think of a word, try to glue it to your skin, say “this is who i am” and maybe you’ll see a boy’s smile and rip off the word off your skin and it’ll feel red and sore and empty and you’ll still pick at the scab everytime a girl smiles at you.

You don’t need to glue the words to yourself, let them come, let them hover around you, a cloud of possibilities. Hold them into your palm under the cover of night, look them over, see if there’s a spot for them somewhere, your collarbone, your ankle, your neck. Put it back, pick another one, take it apart, sprinkle it on your hair. Better? No? Let it fall like stardust. Nothing is definite and there are words you don’t know yet. Maybe no one word will ever fit you, maybe you need five words instead of one. So what?

Maybe you’re 40yo and you pick apart at your skin, trying to see if there’s a word hidden under that flesh. Maybe you’re 14 and your skin still growing and you look into the new layers for a word, a sign, a meaning.

Don’t.

Don’t hurt yourself trying to find yourself. There’s no deadline and nobody’s got a headstart on you, words come and go and you will find the ones you need, or you will find that you don’t need any. Free yourself from the expectations and you will know yourself, layer by layer.

[discardedtwigs]

Someone’s Never Again is Linn D.’s first chapbook, a collection of 5 poems about building yourself back up from the rumble and trusting that you will grow. Welcome on this wlw poet’s journey to the present.

Buy the book here — Goodreads

[obsceneic]

Hey guys

So if the kind of poetry you are really into is the kind that makes you FEEL things even if it’s not like “wow” poetry that is bigger than life than wow I recommend this to you. It’s such a real look into a life and it hurts and it’s sad but it’s also really sweet (and I’m so happy for Linn to have done this). Anyone who needs a pick me up because life sucks and you aren’t sure your whole life isn’t recovering uh this is the poetry book for you.

Seriously guys!!! It’s super cheap and amazing support ya local artist.

(there is a a tw for abuse tho)

[discardedtwigs]

I am scared of the lightning inside of me

excerpt from Someone’s Never Again (Linn D.)

[discardedtwigs]

two new prints in the shop! 

Confession is a Destiel poem I wrote for a friend (op link), prophets of our love is one of the lines I am most proud of. 

Let me know if you want me to add more poems to the shop and don’t forget to support your local poets! [ko-fi]

[meiselr]

1000 Picspams Challenge | #556 - The Raven Cycle

[discardedtwigs]

two new prints in the shop! 

Confession is a Destiel poem I wrote for a friend (op link), prophets of our love is one of the lines I am most proud of. 

Let me know if you want me to add more poems to the shop and don’t forget to support your local poets! [ko-fi]

[discardedtwigs]

we look at women and applaud the ones who stand tall against the storm the ones who take a sword in hand and don’t ever step back.

but what about the women in the storm? the ones who have only two choices stay still and endure the weight of the storm or become the storm.

what about them? they who have endured the storm and chose to never inflict it on anyone else? what about these women? would you cheer them on? what would you call them, they who bend but do not break?

Endurance — Linn D.