We writhe out among the stars

in fractal whirlpools that give birth to suffering and death

all caught in the maw of some hideous, beautiful beast

who devours the light and life and deals death

And we live in shadows

on the fingertip of some outstretched hand

gazing in at the center

and convincing ourselves that we see the face of god

Now tired of screaming into void and shadow

we turn inward to ourselves and begin to tear away

I’ve crossed the 80k word milestone on the book I’m writing. This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written, and it’s not done yet—I have almost an entire storyline left to add before editing it. Feels good to be getting somewhere, though!

Photo by Alex Andrews from Pexels

8 responses to “Writhe”

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