Spring in Hell
QVV's May Spring Poetry Challenge
there are no separate seasons
on the island of devils and demons
where parasites of burning sands
spill endless poison tainting lands
and fires rage on untamed
scalding and scorching
the emotionally maimed
there is no summer
no winter, no fall
no spring flowers
no seasons at all
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Written for the QVV Spring Challenge to write a poem about what Spring looks like where you are.
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More stories from Kayleigh Fraser ✨ and writers in Poets and other communities.
making space
Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
By Mesh Toraskarabout 18 hours ago in Feast
Comments (5)
Wow. There is so much heat in your words. So much emotion and fire.
So, you've been to Texas? LOL This was intense, Kayleigh! Excellent!
As my husband would say to me after reading something like Old Fear, "It's so happy!" I thoroughly enjoyed it!
Gosh this was so poignant and intense! Loved your poem!
Well-wrought! Researching something entirely unrelated today, I learned that Origines, one of the early Christian, postulated Hell as a place where people were put through trial to be redeemed, and only later, in the sixth century, did it become official doctrine to consider it a place of eternal and unredeemable torment. I know the former to be true. The fire purifies. Never trust the ideologues. Hell... ahem... don't even trust me. Just never give up on the self!