dressing appropriately for Spring except i am not a weatherman;

can you fall asleep, tucked into the unknown?

this is a poem i wrote earlier in the year that was just published in Flat Ink Magazine’s latest issue! you can read the issue here and find my poem here.

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flushed homesick for whimsy of that I forage while grazing

loose limbs through meadow, where I tug each blade to wed

the blade in front of it, chain links of chlorophyll iron When I

sway we all do, chain reaction of nature’s bodies

and I’ll be lucky to cross ms. daisy ballerina dainty along

the waning footpath If I could abandon chasing understanding

with a firearm, my ego wouldn’t face such brutality If I could

find equal comfort in all nonsense I’d end homesick yearning

choking on the daily Words strung and knotted with a period:

just this can be a truth.

Devising sham scavenger hunts, for whose benefit?

I plan on wearing long cotton skirts this Spring, I hope I follow through

How to live familiar with the whiplash of jerking

to gnawing, see– I can’t help asking questions, now what

should I do? Deprived special ingredient, re-introducing

insatiable brain, what good does that do?

There I go again.

Hair against my headboard, beneath the moon a licorice twilight,

pondering the tree it was born from, at such an hour I am allowed this truth

The tree stood identical to any other, cloaked charcoal and shadowless.

Holding up the carcass of my headboard’s past life, is this

what it takes to lockpick sleep’s doors? For every question

I score an answer, how much soul is desperate

for cracks to plummet into and is it worth whimsy charged guilty

with folly? I’d like to spin circles, hair swaddled in fresh atmosphere,

twirl without dizzying immediately, this upcoming Spring

If I can let go of understanding why I am compelled to, I will succeed.

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hope you all got something out of this—

this poem is about the unquenchable obsession with finding answers. the wretched need for understanding the world in order to feel at peace. it’s about letting go of the unknown and still being able to fall asleep afterwards.

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one of the problems with submitting to journals and magazines is most often i can only send unpublished work which includes anything i post on here. unfortunately that means substack gets to read all my writing that i didn’t believe was quite good enough or polished enough to send out. however in instances like this, where a poem of mine does get published, i finally get to share it with you all here!

anyways, take care as always. i hope sleep finds you gracefully tonight.

-sofi <3

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buy me a coffee! — if you’d like to support in another way! my hope is to write full-time, but unfortunately i’m not a nepo baby and therefore do not have the financial backing to support this dream currently. sending a virtual forehead kiss to anyone who’s able to contribute <3