Megaira

Upon awakening,
she unfurled into a fury.
An owlish grudge against the sun
brought forth a pointed,
poison-tongued,
wild-winged frenzy.

Snarling, hissing snakes of hair
would not be calmed.
Only shrieks brought solace
to those infernal,
hungry mouths;
though fire-bellies smouldered still...
beneath the crimson carnage
of scorned flesh and scaly,
wind scorched
winter skin.

And soon, a gentle silence lost itself,
as a pitter patter (flutter-slither)
clattered visciously
in a sun-warmed kitchen...

as an unasked for morning
birthed an illegitimate afternoon.

~M.R

This is an elderly poem. I am putting it here simply to remind myself of where I was 4 years ago...the miserable shell of what was once a human being.

I vow to never find myself surrounded in that darkness again.

*The image above freaks me out. What in heaven's name happened to her...um...girl parts? *shiver*