no bright star shone down on me when I was dropped headfirst into the world red-faced, kicking, and screaming and placed in my mother’s arms— the only true home I’ve ever known
instead, a dark star witnessed my birth stepped out of hell’s black hole took me in its cold bony hands and christened me “Wednesday’s Child” damning me to a life of woe
not for me fair of face or full of grace a clumsy witch with frizzy red hair who mounts her broom and beneath an a ghostly moon runs wild with the night
night understands, night knows what beats inside my heart what tangles and twists my soul it doesn’t question, doesn’t judge night is my beloved familiar
there’s a certain comfort in failure a happiness inside misery a pleasure in absent feelings for a Wednesday’s Child who has serenely accepted her fate
Both poem and monochromantic watercolor are several years old. The poem is one of my favorites of the many I have written, and I think the watercolr painting pairs well with it.
yes, this is great: both watercolour and poem; it twists and turns, variegates —
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