nails by autumn

i’m in my prime,
not withering and old.
but i refuse to play
your wicked games any longer.

i know this tether is unbreakable,
but you make me feel like i’m interchangeable.
you drew a target on my heart,
when did this become fatal attraction?

i don’t have the strength,
the energy,
nor the patience
to be held hostage by your love.

so baby please don’t despair
when i say that
i’ve found the courage to
let you go.

you were never meant to be tied down in the first place.

—  believing i could love you was my mistake, c.j.n.
Five Weather'd Nails (A Vernal Charm)


Five Weather’d Nails

A snail shell, a cloister, a labyrinth of life
its essence made of distillation, propagation, strife.

Three rabbit bones a stream did cross, never a fallow hare
six times a raven circl’d the heath, calling in despair.

“Bind it thrice for heathen earth, thrice for death’s embrace
tie it now for new born life, thrice for winter’s disgrace.”


A handful of mugwort dried, from summer’s recent past
that burns upon the censer, brings the visions we have cast.

Five weather’d nails, through autumn sleet and winter hail
that call to the fire in the sky, let vernal birth avail!

“Bind it thrice for heathen earth, thrice for death’s disgrace
tie it now for new born life, thrice for spring’s embrace.”