poet – Page 11 – Jordyn Saelor

into the roaring storm

so no you stupid fates just existing isn’t rewarded with happiness, I am a rainbow or water,

there’s a little brook that falls over a rainbow, and the brook one day asked the rainbow why they kept letting her fall

All fates are the same, it seems: whether witch or demon, rabbit or tree, the tones just tell us to

so I wrote in here again not for a dead woman from witch school but because I wanted to, for me, and because a

happiness follows you through the air and sometimes strangers say you find what you’re looking for by not looking; things just

Of course I’ve got my rose-colored glasses on—not having running water

You wouldn’t believe I left this collection of letters unwritten in for seven years. Because you didn’t have to wait that long

Maybe I’ll fake my death and write nothing else

Maybe the demons would still call me young and brash for my

the movers and shapers of the kingdom must be the young: the witches fresh out of school so excited to