Rain

@raininginmountains.bsky.social

71 Followers 62 Following

aspiring author, west virginian lesbian, 22 my account to work on original stories and talk about appalachian stuff, mental health, and other things I feel bad about doing on my larger, more social account

as the first thaw weeps the end of winter, warm life’s breath of spring’s vast maw, will the cold fade again, next year, or is it the last time, which I fear? as the frogs croak and crickets chirp, a song passed down countless days, will they be born again, next year, or is it the last time, which‌ I fear? as the trees hang, half-born anew,‌ shaken alive by warm nights hue, will they awaken again, next year, or is it the last time, which‌ I fear?‌ when the flowers blossom bright, carried by rain and wind and love, will it be just another sight, to me or is it the last time, which‌ I‌ fear? let it me another forgotten time, lost amidst fugue and windchime, let my fears be hollow, lost anew, in next year’s flowery, spring view
droplet of truth, diluted divinity, angel’s tears falling into the stream of consciousness, bubbling bloody bounty, melting mundane into prophetic profound, starlight’s shining light leaking, hollow heart filled full, empty eyes allowed alight, fallow soul forcefully shackled, stare sorrows into imagination
crumbling wings, decaying by day, harken as the evening bell rings, doom’s beloved daughter,‌ skin of frost, heartbeat lost, scratchy voice, red-ink pen, kisses harsh, grave’s art, a single touch, far too much, soul stained surely, solemnly, severed sanctitude shattered a smile echoed by shades, broken bird’s blessing,‌ dead, fallen from birth
soul’s shell, emptied-out well, winter’s kiss, wit I miss,‌ bound by a holly crown, soul’s blight, sick by light,‌ summer’s touch, far too much,‌ by oaken reign I drown, begging prayer, where, oh where, may I thrive?
Red-streak dawn’s yawn, by the deer-path creek, there lies a single drop, of seven-color dew, rainbow in hue, Born under a breath, unloved by death, marked fog worn, rainbow in hue Laughing birds call, of signs they caw, rainbow in hue
“Ruby Norn Underwood!” The shrill voice ripped her out of thought, tearing her into the world of the living. “Get your head together, you are attracting attention! Look forward, stand up straight.”She tried to bury herself into the mess of her hoodie, the winter chill her only excuse to bear that slice of armor, but it was to no avail, the ‘perks’ of buying tailored clothes biting at her. The more she tried to hide, to avoid awareness, the more all the stares tore into her - the parking lot full of churchgoers scattering to the winds, old and young alike turning towards the commotion.
a heart shaped by pains like the moon far above, my will waxes and wanes bound by aching chains, a one-winged white dove, a heart shaped by pains, plagued by crimson strains, cold even to what I love, my will waxes and wanes, no relief fills my veins, ruined by a single shove, a heart shaped by pains, unable to grasp the reins, agony all I am made of, my will waxes and wanes, burnt and crumbled brains, numbed by merciless glove, a heart shaped by pains, my will waxes and wanes
Old blood, runnin’ down the crick, dancin’ orange with sulfuric taint, mountain’s tears, how very quaint, lives burnt faster than candle’s wick,‌ Suit up and get that nice ol’ degree, forgot that hillbilly mountain talk, write them nice words in white chalk, quit that dancin’ under the ash tree, Go ‘fore the mines take ya true, go and forget that mist and dew, go and forget the beauty too,‌ go and we won’t mourn you