Redwood
Fiction

Duology: Waking and Nightland

Zora Laddish

October 2022
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I isolate in the bright summer heat
It’s not intentional
A dollar in my fist, condensating as I hold it
The way I hold my brain, the pink mess
(I cover my ears)
My pearlescent earbuds slip-slide in my sweat
I’ve got to reach a place of peace, where my volume is the multitude
(I turn up my music)
(I don’t hear it)
When daylight dies, I chain myself to dim dark bedrooms,
The ones that reek with every part of summer
Only evening takes me through the open window’s screen
I’m dragged to standing
When I find my footing a thousand backs break below me
And through the cacophonous cries
I cauterize
I hold myself in limbo
For the multitude of silence.

When I fight the nighttime rising,
I spill the sunset from my veins
I spread my wings, great, blooming things
When I bury the shadows six feet deep, 
My actions are only a candle to my power
I hold the sinew of all who stand with me
When nighttime dies, I’m alone in my bed,
And my own colors refract the summertime.
I think I stitch myself up and I bleed again
(And I won’t stop bleeding)
(I turn up my music)
Feathers fall from my mouth when I claw them from the earth
And suck them from beneath my fingernails
I hold the night accountable and it gives me strength
Hardly, I stand, and screaming, I will go down.

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  • Home
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