Haunting Howls of a Neurodivergent, Trans-Wolf Writer

Knowing only the direction, 
not the distance or destination

Unmoored, I swim
Riptides drag me
from the shores of self knowing
into Despair's depths
Dash apart my contrived certainties
on the shoals of vulnerability

Broken

Unhinged, I fly
Gusts hurtle me
through the forest of becoming
onto Hope's heights
Breath life into my butterfly wings of flame
at a precipice free and bright

Remade

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