A. Crow's Prose

a place of exploration

To Those Who Couldn’t Love Us Back

I think back to the times
you didn’t even know my name
didn’t even give me a first glance
let alone a second one
until I wore that dress
until I had my hair that certain way
that certain way you requested
for every birthday, anniversary, special occassion
once you saw that
your deep, brown eyes lit up
as they roved over me
silently approving.

what your eyes consumed
you fed to your heart

and now your
heart howls my name
screams for me
hoping your lips will take up the call
hoping your fingers will make the call
so she can hear
my voice
once more
and sooth
her aches and pains for which
you left no tools for her to mend
you left no way for her to sooth her own fears
so your heart howls
for the bond we once had
the salve for her burning loneliness

(one day
i ate the fruit of another
to see if she would notice
but your heart
was too busy
tending to her own rotten fruit
that did not nourish
but poisoned me)

you’ve gotten really good at ignoring your lonely heart
pretending you’ve forgotten her language
ignoring what she calls out for
what she screams into the wind
like a spell
dangling over me
hovering
I ignore her too
she wants me to heal
the damage you’ve caused her
but I
am nursing my own wounds.

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illuminate the cry to arms the cry to collect gather mend and make and mash together perfect unpalatable words used inefficiently, used cowardly your emotions seep through your lips spilling and tumbling down your top in careless, haphazard ways they come to me they cling to me they clobber me I reel; to release myself […]

I love your lack of confidence
the way you present yourself in that
off-comfortable way
head down – neck stretched down
anti-giraffe, ostrich if your
double chin could act as sand
layered in fat as a shield, armour
human, organic camouflage
you’ve been so busy
caught up in daily life

you are the bitterness in my coffee
the flavor I seek out
to keep me humble and awake
to flashes of moon in your eyes
as we speak in low tones
under the grand expanse of stars
mapped out in your motions
you are the earth, solid
leaving me effortless
in breath

Have You Written?

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Capturing our Muses; or, How to Keep Inspirational Ideas

A large part of the writing process (at least for me) is writing down flashes of inspiration. Those little brilliant story ideas that come to me in the most inopportune times. Oh, are you stuck in traffic on the freeway? Here, have an amazing Young Adult Fantasy story idea. Oh, in the shower? Hahaha have a brilliant poem that you won’t remember. Did you just wake up? Let me give you fragments of this beautiful dream that you had. Oh, it’s 5 a.m. and you’re delirious? Good luck remembering this one.

We can’t help when a Muse decides to grace us with her presence, but we can help when and how we try to capture these rare golden ideas.

A. Crow’s Inspiration Trapper to Keep(er)

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