Slatslitch.
That's the name you gave me.
With your blood.
Connected by vein and pore, blood, plasma, hair.
Every cell and strand.
I knew then, but I truly know now, that what you did was a curse to every ounce of blood shared.
Every ebony hair.
Why the fuck would you leave your own flesh to rot?
With him.
Fenspear.
That's the name he offered me.
And I took it.
Passed it on to our boys.
I'm not strung by your veins anymore, not laced by hair.
Instead I am laced to them.
By blood, womb water, nerves.
Not hair though, they got his.
And, somehow I managed to never abandon them.
(With the last name dropping, I think I should note that all of the poems marked with (Old Blood) are sorta fanfictiony, with the story, or the basics of it, coming from the game called Wildermyth. Though, the characters are still mine, due to the nature of that game. Anyways, what's your interpretation of the story so far, if you have one?)
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Poetry
General FictionVarious poems about all sorts of things, nature, romances, ill-fated and beautiful ones, pain, death, open-hearted caverns and tight ones. The long and short of it... The poems could be about literally anything. Some of the content may be a little...
