Category: Poems

on Deathwork & Griefwork/on Grief/on Mental Health/Poems

falling out of the light {poem}

Posted on 18 February 2025

cw: poetic imagery of drowning, ideation, hopelessness

on Praxis/Poems/the Work

i know my name {a poem}

Posted on 15 January 2025

I know my name

an open compass on a bed of dark green moss. the photo is dimly lit.

on Chosen Family/on Hope/on Love/Poems

here {a poem}

Posted on 30 November 2024

we hold hands in the dark deep earth

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about me: who is Nix?

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CURRENTLY READING:

I am on StoryGraph tracking my reading and the reading challenges I've joined. You can go to my StoryGraph profile if you want to see what kind of reading I'm doing right now.

CURRENTLY WATCHING:

I am using MyDramaList now! Here's my MDL profile and my MDL watchlists. I recommend looking at my 2025 watchlist to see what I've watched already and what's on my massive personal wishlist for the year.

HOUSE WAYRETH:

I live in a chosen family that we collectively call House Wayreth. We have a Substack, an Instagram account that I have temporarily forgot how to log into, and a Facebook page.

You can read stuff that some of us write: Ash's writing is temporarily on hiatus for public consumption, but they are on Bluesky. Rob posts semi-regularly on faer website. StarChild posts semi-regularly on their website. And I post here and am occasionally on Threads.

It is our suffering that brings us together. It is not love. Love does not obey the mind, and turns to hate when forced. The bond that binds us is beyond choice. We are brothers. We are brothers in what we share. In pain, which each of us must suffer alone, in hunger, in poverty, in hope, we know our brotherhood. We know it, because we have had to learn it. We know that there is no help for us but from one another, that no hand will save us if we do not reach out our hand. And the hand that you reach out is empty, as mine is. You have nothing. You possess nothing. You own nothing. You are free. All you have is what you are, and what you give.

-- excerpt from The Dispossessed: an Ambiguous Utopia by Ursula K. LeGuin