Tag: abstract poetry

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I Want to Be Ugly

I feel more and more feral.

I want a different word. Unhinged.

I want to be ugly. I want to be a mess—show my ass.

Bit by bit, I’m letting loose again. Saying more. Saying less. Using my face and body to communicate.

It is noticeable.

I want them to see my wholeness. I won’t shy away.

I play with myself, my thoughts, my perceptions. I challenge. I rebel.

I believe in letting the darkness play out. Something is ready this era. I have wants. I’m human too. And I’m a generous woman.

I want to be afraid and safe.

I’ve been questioning reality and mortality. Getting nowhere close to anything that soothes and makes sense.

I am struggling to surrender to the care I feel.

I’m realizing I move similarly to my dad

In and out.

How I refuse to acknowledge that others are attached to me and that they are a person. How I’ve lost some humanness through the cracks of me.

Emotionally, I intellectualize my emotions and others’. I feel deeply, but I’m not connected to my feelings fully. I float above, observing.

Solitude protected me from rejection.

Solitude protected me from the noise of the world.

Solitude protected my journey to myself.

I ended up alone while becoming everything.
I am questioning everything about relationships.
I see what part of me must die.
A big chunk of my identity.

How pathetic. How humbling these human feelings.

I bite my tongue. Resentment fills my mouth as acid.

Behind the barricades
The grip on surrender

I found my sun
By my bedside
On a river
It didn’t take me
Where I’m going
Oh, the faces
I meet

A piece of her
Crawled from her insides
When they were all fresh and overdue
When nobody wanted her
She couldn’t keep herself

I’ve been delving into a new territory with my art.

Bit by bit, I’m letting loose again.

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She Who Lives in My Chest

my heart is selfish
and only wants me

She’s abusive,
intrusive.
She swallows me hidden.

I’m in love with her
I trust her

She forces me,
shoves truth
out from my belly
through my clenched teeth

She makes me throw up,
nice and neat.
She edges me to moonstone tears

Even I am sick of me
and my selfish heart

She allows me to fold
as she soaks into my Viking thighs

I wouldn’t still be alive
without her

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Souls’ Teeth

i weave tension

as eyes made contact

as our stare shapes

fantasy and eruption

we are careless

we destroy out of delight

our passion with walls poured pride

we became one another’s prey

i am dancing on the world

you built it with the grit

between our souls’ teeth

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Emotional Hieroglyphics

My recent work explores subconscious divination through collage and material experimentation.


Using embroidery, scraps, symbolic repetition, texture, handmade paper, organic remnants, and intuitive composition, I’ve been creating what feel like emotional hieroglyphics or dream maps – artifacts of an evolving inner mythology.


The work exists somewhere between intuitive abstraction, sacred symbolism, folk mysticism, outsider assemblage, and visual poetry.


I’m interested in how subconscious memory communicates through symbols, texture, repetition, and material instinct. These pieces are less concerned with polished representation and more concerned with emotional residue, psychic mapping, and the transformation of fragments into living symbolic systems.

✶ Materials: embroidery, glitter, old scrap drawings, sunprint paper, ink, self portrait, tree seeds ✶
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Encourage Her

Every once in a while
she’d orchestrate four corners
cushioned by figments of her sight
she forms a silk chrysalis
when the seas reflected it
when she mourns an ancient heart
so they understand to forgive her
nip and pick at the wisdom in her veins
savor her as a shooting star
encourage her to perform

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Benevolent Cruel Season

an angel from the sun
who knew when to be lost
she’s benevolent
a cruel season
she began only to end
one day with her
was worth searching for
nothing about her was linear
she ran intoxicatingly
cold plunging into the hearts of her prey
she was found on the last eclipse
making mosaics
writing poems about it
what an imagination she is

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Weave

i weave tension
as eyes made contact
as our stare shapes
fantasy and eruption
we are careless
we destroy out of delight
our passion with walls poured pride
we became one another’s prey
i am dancing on the world
you buillt it with the grit between our souls’ teeth

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Crystal Clear Confusion

The center is a labyrinth.
We close our eyes to seek it
It likes to absorb itself
in hues of the abyss
Our fragments hide and seek
Bend at the pond
That foreign transparent center
Crystal clear as confusion

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Flesh

She was
a woman of flesh
pacing
back and forth
softened down
till her belly aches
chaotic to escape
with everything to lose
and those summer blues
lived
to consume her
she
adored being consumed
after allowing herself
to turn stray
hmm
maybe someday