Tag Archives: reality

Check-in #1

Hey guys. How’s it been hanging?

It’s been one of those days. Eyes looking upwards, seeing the otter fur-patterned clouds and not registering some degree of contented awe. The reality? It’s been raining the whole day and the sky’s in perpetual overcast the past week. Probably a good thing though since I like the rain.

Image result for it's not a bad day it's a good life quote

It’s worth remembering that the rut I find myself in eventually levels out, even if it’ll find me again down the road. I keep telling myself that the bad days make me stronger. I don’t know if it’s true, I mean, I’d like to believe it.

I’m just playing with words and ideas here. Perhaps it’s during these times we should reevaluate how far we’ve come and where exactly we want to go. Dreams change all the time and not all survive our equally changing perspectives as we experience what it means to be alive.

Most dreams are obtainable with dedication, or sheer stubbornness if that’s your thing. Things get real when you make them into goals otherwise all we’ll have are castles in the air. It would be an injustice to throw in the towel because of a tough couple of days if not weeks, however miserable.

Anyway, here’s to the hard times. Don’t forget all the times you spat out the dirt and kept moving. Maybe it’s in that same dirt we rise up as our better selves.

I’d like to take the time to give my heartfelt condolences for the victims of the recent school shooting at the high school in Santa Fe, Texas.

Not forgetting the Palestinian protestors who died/ were injured in the clashes with Isreal four days ago.

There isn’t much that I can do but know that I have you all in my thoughts. For what it’s worth I’ll pray and hope that you all begin to heal and grow stronger in the face of tyrany, what ever it may look like to you.

Wishing you peeps the best possible futures, and hoping you’re all safe.

Devina.

4 Comments

Filed under Thoughts

Fiction (?): Skin


I’m backed into the damned corner. Again. Not a physical corner formed by the union of two solid walls. The place in my mind, it’s a black dusty mine that waits for a gap in my happiness so I might fall into it. Haplessly, I do arms around my knees and head tucked in. My sooty lungs press hard against rib cages not built to take the rpm of my beating heart.

I am not nice. I do not belong the name “Mia”. I am not the scarred brown skin that thinly veils my continued existence. I am not the tentative smile centered by two brown eyes.

I am a dark night dappled in stars, covered in howling wind and cold rain like hard fingers.

Sometimes I am the words I read, the shows I watch, a part of a far flung community of inside jokes.

Mostly though, i am the banshee heralding my own demise. That wretched woman who screams and screams that falls on deaf ears of the living. The things she knows about the all things she does not, insanity. Wailing wailing waling, unnoticed by passersby caught up in their own affairs. 

i … i am lost among people who love me. i, who know not how to pull off the leaches that suck the light out of me, surely do not deserve that warmth nor can carry that weight of it.

There is a silent horror that lives behind the eyes of the tortured, i’ve come to know. It’s masked by a habitual tiredness.

Horror birthed from dark seeds, physical and mental trauma are it’s famous progeny. Little fears of mundane objects is the stealthy child. Continue reading

11 Comments

Filed under Flash Fiction, Writing

Reader, I am

You dance the waltz

Of uncertainty

Envisioned citadel

Blown away

Like a house of cards

But like the escapist you are

You found a rabbit hole

Within the brittle husks of trees

Right there solidly in your grasp

With it you smother the fabric of the present

Even for a little while

The lazy exhales of a saxophone

Drowns the pestering flies of noises of reality

In a plane of impossibility,

You find yourself suspended there,

In that unshakable place of strength

A sense of home you create and take with you

Whichever way you roam.

© Devina S.

5 Comments

Filed under My Poetry, Writing