a hive in fall; a fallen hive

drifting weightless in the sun kissed air just like every other morning. just like every day before the sun rose with a new promise of unending abundance, confirming the creeds we nurture in our hearts. today we rule. today we thrive. yet somehow i can tell that this day is not like the others. the air is thin and a chill enters my body. the familiar melodies praising the empire do not emanate from the trees. the constant motion of the world at our feet has been put to rest and in its place arrives an eerie stillness. i look to find solace in the faces of others but i only find a renewed sense of tension. the pride we all used to wear so boldly has seemed to vanish over night. but how can this be? this kingdom we built with our hands stood unchallenged as the sole proprietor of glory. a community filled with vast riches. walls lined with gold, sweet splendor dripping from the ceilings and covering all the heirs of greatness with triumph. lionized and demonized by all the outsiders. but today our close-knit hoard seems more like a society of strangers with no ties to bond one to the other. even my closest companions seem to be chocking down an unbearable secret that cuts like glass in their throats. but what can it be? is this an unstable paranoia? is this just the suspicion that dwells deep within? undisturbed yet waiting to manifest itself at the right moment. no, i can see it in their eyes. they knew this would happen all along. as our once solid fortress begins to separate and flake lifelessly to the ground below i come to the realization that this was always our fate. flawless beauty fades and all around ruin is within sight. anger swells inside. this can't be the end. this can't be how our eternal summer falters. we cannot be robbed of all our prominence, left to humiliation and defeat. all around me friends, neighbors, acquaintances drop to the ground. they fall in one motion, some struggle to regain awareness but most just sink without a fight. i will not allow this to be our final chapter. if we are going out we are leaving in a flash. with my teeth set to the edge i find the kerosene. i'm setting it ablaze. in glory we were born. in glory we lived. and in a blaze of burning glory we will forever be remembered.

i love all zombies, except the one inside me

this concealing thicket offers the secrecy i've longed for. the deeper i travel into the dense maze of trees, the more isolated i become. and while isolation may not be the best survival strategy, i have learned to adapt. i build a wall of urgency in mind to avoid the thoughts that come with solitude. i'm constantly checking over my shoulder, keeping my ears tuned in for anything that might force me into a confrontation with the trail i plunged into the forest to escape in the first place. my stubborn resolve and fixated focus are almost enough, but not quite. everywhere i look i see them, signs that point me back to the path you walk, the one i forsook when i took to the trees. trails of blood left behind by those that were dragged away from the forest. and then the pools of the same blood where they gave up hope and waited for you to take what was left. broken branches where someone miscalculated their retreat. torn garments strewn about, signaling ultimate defeat. all these point back to you and all lead in the direction of your path. some wander lost between the trees with no knowledge of you or the path. all they know is this dark realm and the web of branches and thorns that hems them in. all they know is day to day subsistence. i am perplexed by their ignorance when i see the abundance of proof that you exist outside of this wilderness. but unlike them i have seen and walked your path, i've even heard your voice. and from them all i run. i am the lowest of all these desperate creatures for i know your path but chose not to keep it. instead i scavenge through the overgrowth frantically feasting on anything that can keep this unsustainable cycle alive. i have never fully lost my way back but i fear that if i do not turn back soon i will forget. i will forget that it is this decay at my very core that forces me to find your path. i will forget that it is this sorrow inside of me that seeks out your soothing song. i will forget that this hopelessness is my compass. i will forget that all this desolation has a purpose. how long will i toil in these shadows entertaining ghosts? will i seek the timberline or will i weave my life around these roots and anchor in?

valley forge

unaware and unconcerned, the tide carried me further and further, out here to the open ocean. i scan the horizon for any signs of familiarity, anything solid to keep me afloat, but i find none. this is the point at which i must adapt and press on or falter and divide. but i have never been much of a conqueror and these frontiers always have a way of extinguishing my ambition. my chest feels heavy as cold water enters my lungs, my breathing feels labored as i recognize the endless void that lies ahead. my separate fears begin to colonize and construct a settlement of utter paranoia in my brain. hopelessly i lift my eyes one last time. the image of the grey, overbearing sky burns itself into my mind. i close my eyes and in a moment i am submerged, slowly i descend. weightless and emotionless i sink. no panic and no fight left inside, i drift with the waves. somewhere between surrender and sleep something brushes past my legs. frantically i open my eyes only to see the light from above dancing faintly on its watery stage. the dancing slows to a flickering and the light fades away, taking with it everything tangible. all my striving and dedication reduced to nothing, a piece of driftwood picked up and tossed against the raging waves. this is loss. as my eyes turn down i search for any gleam to guide my departure. my thoughts return to the brush past my legs as i realize that i am not alone. i am surrounded by creatures too hideous for life on the surface. eyes like balloons, teeth set like so many rows of jagged knives, skin shimmering like glass. this is the point at which i adapt, but not to press on, simply to survive in this new environment. failure makes a suitable teacher at these depths and i am an eager student. this is where my adaptation skills flourish, miles below, in secrecy, out of sight. look through my transparent skin and gaze upon my crooked spine. i am one of them, a wanderer roaming this dark expanse searching for the light, a vagrant drifting in these icy currents clinging to any warmth i can find. this is where i belong. buried with the misunderstood. left to scurry across the ocean floor, the only place i can call home, thriving in isolation.