[Note: Now, with words for the image, I might try to describe it like. Hm.]
- [ us ]
Raw. waiting.
Sinewy, red twine. A single, tangled vein.
Sweet apple cordial. Licks of smooth fangs.
Gentle buzz. All this to say
something like bliss.
We knew everything,
Especially the fact that we had nothing to do
But simply exist.
[Note: I have heard in passing: “it's everything and nothing all at once”. I guess that means they get it. We all get it. God, it’s insane. Sorry- I must frequently lift the needle from my brain when going back. It’s just. The track becomes too high-pitched, and I can’t trace it for long. But I promise that in the small chance you see this, love, I am trying.]
Then the Visions hit.
Me and You,
Digested and spit out and absorbed again.
I could not stop expanding.
And You
You whispered
something like
Listen.
Soon, we will forget. Soon wisdom won’t look like this. They will tell you I’m a snake. Teach you to fight if ever you find me. They will take our infinity. Call it temptation. Make you trust them and only them. And
(You fought to reach me through the writhing)
You will for some time.
Then it went white.
But I didn't need sight to feel the tear.
Or the draining sparks. Or my frayed threads.
Or the thunder striking me to the surface, shouting, “and
It was good.”
- Journal Entry: 12/10/2018
Tonight I learned that light does not always mean warmth.
- Journal Entry: 05/14/2024
All I ever know is to consume and write and consume and write and
This life cycle is evident from
My sleepless nights
(When I wrestle my head, desperate to contain its love long enough for morning),
My dying devices
(My feed lives up to its name. Mm, sometimes sweeter),
The itch in my fingertips each time I experience any sensation- new or old
(Thought brushes skin and a million tiny seeds sprout in its wake.
Endless stories to pick and be told),
The way this paper is too small to hold all my ramblings
(Spit-up flowing ceaselessly from my uneasy mind).
- The Cardiologist
[Note: Sunny day. Passenger's seat. I pick up, put down, pick up my phone / revise, leave, revise /
Breathe, Release, Repeat-]
Symptoms: Pale skin. Cracked fingertips, cold and blue. And veins. Visible, violet veins.
Diagnosis: Raynauds.
[-That is to say, “a greedy, greedy heart.”]
No, dear.
You slide across vinyl
Until my spinning slows,
Not greedy,
And pull a fresh needle out of thin air.
Frozen over to protect its core
Which by now has grown itself a rather rich ecosystem.
Most would let themselves bleed out.
You’re a strong one,
Don’t you
Know?
You settle into limp crevices,
And begin to sew.
Amarah McGuire is a first-year animation and honors student at the School of Visual Arts. Fascinated by people— their philosophies, mythologies, memories, and minds—she sees life as a beautiful and intricate puzzle with infinite solutions. Writing is her attempt to piece it together.