Owlmoon

a token of kindness [ 24th august, 2025 — sunday ] 
          
          where comes the chaos? soar and sin, the culprit,
          from the lodging inns. surrendered and sought,
          beavering, bold— a little of the timid, a lot of the known. 
          
          swinging with pride, doors left unknocked,
          a guest invited under intoxication’s hold.
          forging, jeopardising, guided by homely apple-pie servings; bruised words swept beneath the rug of humility. 
          
          barks and bellows, odours, open wounds,
          entangled chairs and a single creaking move.
          whisper, then wait, tremors that carry
          a mouth of screams— beginning and dying
          in a parched throat. 
          
          kalopsia and kites— a guest like ropeburn,
          pricking like wine. mindful maps, mindless routes,
          sanctuaries like lies that bury the truth.
          shadows stumble, shoes fade—
          a blessing strikes a menace, transforming a paper cut into a prayer. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a token of kindness [ 18th august 2025, monday ] 
          
          "green and gold, bumblebees and blooms, notorious affairs of the innocent homes; half of wounds are entombed in windy trails, while the remaining lie maimed in terraces aged. 
          
          eye and a wisdom tooth, bear and tear, wavelets of death caressing the feeble veil; garbled silences in pictures hung, hung were the joys of the crusted youth. keepsakes assignable, september — a bright shy; one step of risk, one step of ice. 
          
          cliffs and cuts that swallow the shore, earth is an art with its slinky tides and falling feathers; rhythm and rhyme mold the blood, like granules of sand that recognise a home in your skin. 
          
           liquor and tea, a prison and a poison; every scream becomes a rotten whisper. quite a wonder, the heart one carries with pride, the same which injures the soul — punished with suffocation behind clasping ribs, where it beats and beats, severing its rest."
           #adropofhumanity 

Hi Owl! I just finished reading Seventeen on your other account and  in the Author's Note you mentioned your story "To Be Female". I was interested in reading or but I didn't see it on either of your accounts. I was wondering if you took it down? My apologies if I just missed it.

a token of kindness [ 18th july 2023 ] 
          
          insecure poems, confident aches; inspired decades yet everyday a death. stretching silences, concrete words; homes that melt and walls that echo. floating feet, rotten flowers; waves that pause in an ocean that seamlessly flows. 
          
          fluttering thoughts, fiddling feelings; coloured mouths and disappearing promises. hibernating lights and travelling darknesses; lingering lilacs and luminescent shadows. 
          
          minds of pearls, mouths of venom; do not lose by playing to their strengths. corridors of history, weaponsied love; transient nor malleable. fragile loneliness, screaming insecurities;  not every sunset has to be colourful. 
          
          sun of rain, thunders of frustration; mornings like amnesia, cloudless burdens. midday pride, repentance heavy; grief stricken victories, blackbird joys. mansions of footsteps, tears of dreams; we are all graves carrying the dying spark of life in us. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness [ 10th july 2023  ] 
          
          mountains and decorators, exhaustion and evil eye; surviving bones and careless finds. funeral floods and tumbling sorrows; forests and bridges of laughters and morals. feelings migrated, clouds and dresses; that which rains does not always bring about harvest. 
          
          clocks of manners, a road of residences; hearts like maples marked along fences. pictures of politeness, smiles like wounds; world a death of another, burial grounds like jasmine blooms. 
          
          mornings of questions, blurred evening attempts; youth of trial and error, life a honeycomb aged. dreams of wounds, dreams like a father's disappointment; storms like swaying birth, storms sometimes like corpses of discipline.  
          
          disassociated honour, ribbed filters; what binds is not glue, rather, mutual respect. eastern wind and crepuscular billows; howling books and silent words. the majesticness of months yet the solemnity of years; to the hearts that wriggle with pain, silence is delicate, thin ice-like elegance. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness [ 20th february 2023  ] 
          
          blistering hope and disrupted forces, stomach of dirt and howling cresses; scraping blossoms and sunken springs. hollowed harvests, assaulted reaps; jeopardised desires and slivering skies. 
          
          mismatched woods and stolen petals; metaphorical gentleness and articulated coherence. dripping hearts, compendium ashes; ornate gale, weathered pages. 
          
          vintage eyes and handwritten libraries, fictional moon and escaped fantasies. inspiring nostalgia, doubtful guqin; poisonous inquiry, burial of heaven. vulnerability guarded, vindictive portraits; a monster of human needs, a devil of emotions. 
          
          brush-wood sprains and sinister autumns; stubborn walls and bittersweet burns. fluid memories, flamed nerves; familiar souvenirs,  a winter fued. a sadness of sharpness, bitter home in throat; caress the storms just as sadness has caressed tired norms. 
           #adropofhumanity

hi everyone! i know it's been a while. i hope you all have been doing well. i just have a few things for you all today. 
          
          1. my february newsletter is available here (for free) for your convenience: 
          
          2. has anyone missed the LHF updates? if so, i can begin posting a bit more again. i just don't know whether or not it's worth it to do so/if anyone is interested. let me know. if anyone is strongly interested in binging, all of my work is available en masse on my patreon with advance reading for anything i'm currently working on. 
          
          3. would anyone be interested in following an instagram if i created one based solely around my writing? it's an idea i'm beginning to fiddle with more and more after having been asked about it a couple of times, and as someone who does eventually want to publish publish work, would you be willing to consider following? 
          
          would genuinely love to hear from you/about you. i know it's been a while. i am doing a whole lot better from everything, injury and life included. it's been a bit of a rough six months for me, but i eventually want to give my writing my all. thank you for your support as always xx
          to my wings, 
          love owl

a small token of kindness [ 28th january 2023 ] 
          
          heart that loves waters of wrinkles, a grave that loves a man of death and bones;  years of cold and hours of a backyard mirrors. floods of decades, hormones of violence; peace of unfamiliarity, an autumn of heart ache. 
          
          a jam of blue as a fight of love, a poet centuries old lurking in the present; lemons and neighbours, peaches and lungs. sins sacred before mercy, broken palms and roads of birth; sunset embroidered with veins, years fossilised with ricochet pain. 
          
          frosted letters, casual accents; love of bruised knuckles, a sip of sacred venoms. fingers of declaration, windshield dust; a lump of liability, a suffocated drink of laughter. an island where a soul sinks, oceans where the bodies bath; a thread of silk that cuts like glass. 
          
          evaporated pressure, fiery torrents; soul frozen and waltz of wakefulness. meadow of dawn, a canopy of a pleaide; frothing yearns and rippling reasons. death so close, yet addressed as cold; not every flower can be sweet, not every good heart can have enough honey. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness ( 21st january 2023 ) 
          
          bruised october, champagne bread; weeping permissions and tightened braids. a mother of brass, windows of pages; ebbs of midnight, divided miseries. 
          
          copper sprain, malachite oxygen; birds of meetings, broken silences. venn of the woods, the wind and the windpipe; foreign vowels, submerged wrinkles. wet crayons, scents of blue; crisp metaphors and pigeon hues. 
          
          palms of desserts, midnight sober; fire that slips, a womb of sonnets. lemonade poems, an annihilating waist; casual grave, a whisper of conclusions. a poet of confessions, a sky of sin; sacred rain, storm antique. 
          
          blurry opals and cigarette soliloquies; swaying septum and a bouquet of tattood ribs. spine of butter, vinegar patio; breastbone shelter, cronus love. white doorstep, a welcome ghost; trees forget leaves, winter shrinks bones. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (15th january 2023) 
          
          late afternoon intoxications, silver bruises of the lake; half alive lilies and coquelicot verses. swimming decembers and stiff legged waters, crimson sounds and rain of sunflowers. sleep a candle, a shiver of cold winter; a demon merely sleeps to haunt an angel. 
          
          bellies of ocean, onomatopoeia based; bread like canine, haunting kestrel. spirits of terracottas, moulded with eruptions; lune of earth, scabbed with praise. residue of potency, river rock artichokes; penalty like quartz, merciless joy. 
          
          words of water, rituals of heart; primrose like feet, convenants of coneflower. woman of sandalwood, blood thinner than fluid; cushion and confusion an imploding reflections. banishing whispers, solitary shrouds; beaded intonations, burdened sabbath. 
          
          exigent rule of rhythm, an autumn womb; ancient pupils, latticed spirit. camellia hair, noor of protection; cardamom poems, smile of earth. sweet blues, a grapefruit toppled; strangers known, friends estranged. 
          
          poised separation, a moon of a thousand partings; a twilight of veiling curls, afternoon crescent.  confessions tasteless, dawn like wine; passing heavens, inwoven visage. some spines unending, nay, starless and bitter like tender hope. the sky cries, the earth is blinded by its tears;  when one cries the other hears. 
           #adropofhumanity