“I have nothing to write.”
I wrote those words in every form I could think of.
Until they spilled out over the page.
And onto my floor in waves that grabbed at me.
Pulling me into the ocean I thought I would never find again.
I tumbled until I lost my fear of the quiet.
And a raft appeared beneath me.
Not much.
But enough.
Enough.
Enough.
To hold me.
I wondered if there were Sirens in these seas.
What their song might be.
And what they would do to me if I gave myself over.
There is no question that I would.
I cannot help myself in matters of lust and magic.
I would follow their song to the rocks and wild.
Let them unravel my artifice and burn my illusions.
Until only everything I am was left.
I waited and waited.
I heard nothing but the wailing that began before I knew it.
A sound ripping through my body.
A hymn made by my own breath.
With tears and grace and fire.
I gnashed my teeth and howled into the raven sky.
Alive.
I thought.
I knew.
This was what I needed.
To surrender to the mythos.
To give myself to the ocean.
To let it take me to the edge.
I was ready.
But the words.
The ones I had longed for.
Found their way through what broke as I had.
Dense and warm.
They wound their way around my belly.
Slipping in between breaths.
Escaping my lips in gasps and hums.
And then I remembered.
That I all I had wanted was to feel them.
Form them.
Let them conjure oceans and lives.
That would carry me.
Us.
Into The Evers.
And so I wrote.
And so I sang.
And so I sat on the rocks.
Danced on the waves.
And called to those the ocean carried my way.
A siren of my own song.
In darkness and density…
With love and fire~
Jo Anna