Ravyne’s Nest
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Ravyne’s Nest


Random bits held together by crooked stitches

Photo by Steve Johnson from Pexels

I’d almost given up, until…

She pleads with me —
don’t toss anything away
so I gather the scraps
misfits of a troubled mind
and stitch them together

Even my stitches are crooked

I have always been bent this way
slightly crooked to the left
from society trying to mold me

So here I am again — reduced to nothing

Why do I always put my worth
in your hands? — those hands
that beat me down, hammer home
I am nothing

When all else fails, try bribery

force-feed your will with propaganda
toss fuel on a simmering fire
so if you should fail (and you will)
you can just burn it all to the ground

More scraps, more botched stitches — scars

white valleys crisscrossed with barbed fences
old and new battlefields
memories of deep losses and shallow victories

I am fading.

like leaves, fallen and brittle
the wind wisps me away
deposits me far from home
far from you
far from what I could have been

© 2020 Lori Carlson. All Rights Reserved.

I expressed to my therapist recently that my thoughts are disjointed and so is my writing. I’m getting snippets of ideas that I jot down, but they seem to go nowhere. She encouraged me to save them, try to make them work. So I’ve stitched some of them here. This is my madness



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Ravyne Hawke

Ravyne Hawke

Writing Coach, Poet, Fiction Writer, Essayist, Artist, Dreamer | “Enlightenment is when a wave realizes it is the Ocean” ~Thich Nhat Hanh