The Sea Witch
Rising
When a cephalopod is afraid, senses danger, her ink provides a hiding place, long enough to escape from actual or perceived danger.
Charcoal bath salts cloak her in purity, clouding her limbs in perfection. As she pseudomorphs within the warm water, she remembers what has brought her to this self-created, submerged catacomb.
A mother was lost and a child was borne. Her energy and self-love were expended by grieving, celebrating and giving.
As the toxins are drawn from her, she feels buoyant and rises from her watery tomb.
Robed in self-imposed ink, a soft roar emanates from her reflection.
About the Creator
Tracy Kreuzburg
I love reading, writing and storytelling, and using stories to convey truths. I feel this is a platform that will encourage me to write my stories, I also have an interest in connecting written work to art.
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Comments (1)
"I am kraken, hear me roar!" I love it. If Lovecraft knew Cthulu was a woman, he was right to be scared. P.S. Sorry for all the sudden spam, but I've only just discovered you and am clearly a little obsessed.