Phoenix feathers and stardust

The inner thoughts of a closet firecracker.

Poetry I have written is unapologetically NSFW. And protected by copyright.

Images have been found on the Internet and are not mine, contact me if they are yours and you wish them removed.

Contact me at phenix [dot] noire1 at gmail [dot] com


She threw back her arms and gave herself over to the wind. Maybe if she threw all of herself into the West Wind it would pick her up and carry her away from here, away from all the pain.

Life had never been easy but lately she found herself losing ground in a way that scared her. She’d always been able to handle what had been thrown at her - from a terminal illness in her family, losing her job, to finding out her lover had preferred the company of his work desk to her bed. None of that had managed to diminish the little flame of hope that still flickered on in her heart.

But lately, her glow had started dimming. She found herself wondering if this was all there was. The words of that clichéd angry Frenchman who had been her neighbor for a while echoed in her head: “Life is shit, kid. Learn it early.” 

At the time, something in her had rebelled against those words, but now? Now they haunted her, relentlessly echoing in her mind, pushing her to this breaking point - to the moment when in an explosion of frenzied limbs she’d broken out the back door and streaked across the field. Her heart suddenly beating a panicked tattoo in her chest. Those words pushing her to this moment, the moment that found her throwing out her arms, tilting back her head, and begging, just begging the Universe to send the rains that would water the desert that was living in her chest.

  1. phenix-noire posted this