In recent months I have been
abandoned by sadness. More
accurately, I have left her behind.
No more the plucking of leaves
from her overgrown crown, her
laurel of memory. She would not
let me go – a root, tangled around
an arm. My fingers planted in
the bark. As a trade, I had to cut
off my tongue, toss it away. Only
then, could I recognise the future.
Like a door out of nowhere opened
into a garden, and you reading
quiet under the shade. I plant
the seeds of speech in the bed
of my mouth. So much of my words
are poisoned. Everything runs dry.
I have been waiting for months
for something to bloom anew.
I pull a finger from the tree.
Ink, sinew, sap, blood.
Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.