my medicine

does not come in a bottle
it is dispensed by the sea

diamond sparkle waves
whipped by wind
orchestrated before me

my medicine

does not come from a doctor
it comes from green trees

from their scent
from the colors of life
shed in fall’s rainbow tears

my medicine

does not come for a fee
it is natural and free

step into outside
open lungs to breathe

just earth
and me



~ Emily C.




seduced sun into oblivion

were okay with that

made lying in darkness okay

joined you in black

gave life to our emotions

sang along

lit stars with your voice

the blessed audience

were us

will now be you

~ Emily C.



I’m so tapped out from this week. The grief is real. And I am merely one of millions of people feeling this way. I can only think in short bits. It’s all I have right now.

Blackbird Song

when tears fall,
blackbirds fly.

I’ll know it’s you,
soaring high.

when tears fall,
they’ll never dry.

love drowns this
dying heart’s fire.

music beats in memory drops
darkness illuminated
in your fading light

demons faced, never fearing night
your words’ searing strength
coaxing dark into sight

when tears fall,
blackbirds fly.

I’ll know it’s you,
soaring goodbye.

when tears fall,
blackbirds cry.

I’ll know it’s you
singing goodbye.

when tears fall,
blackbird song dies.

I’ll know it’s you
soaring goodbye.

when tears fall, 
they’ll someday dry.

but only after my time
in your lingering light,

on this green earth

~ Emily C.


The Giver

when the giver has given all she can

and the takers have taken all they can

when she can’t seem to rise to stand

and the days never end, no relief at hand

when she learns to say no, and not sorry

and finally listens to her own needs for once

when she stands up for her right to peace

and fights back the pull of others’ grasp

when in order to heal she has to repeal

and pay close attention to body/soul signals

when things aren’t right in her sight

and only she can fix herself in time

when coming to see that the only way to be

and realizing that for her to be there, always free

when she wants nothing more than to take care

and seeing she is too weak to herself be fair

when she looks around at who says, okay,

and grants her the time and space away

when it’s then she knows whose compassion is true

and would only demand of her that self-love is due

~ EC



He lies in self-confinement,
dark’s blanket
consumes eyes’ light
as days roll in to silent nights
his mind seditiously speaks
loud enough that ignorance
only turns up the volume, so
verbalizing vanquishes fear
(even if no one is near to hear)
enveloped by nothingness
opaque atmosphere caresses
willing to take him without a fight
without which it’s almost too easy
without which its power increases

weakened by time he heaves
sighing spark-sputtering breath
the nothing senses ignition
now it’s time to relinquish
to release its grip
to let a little light in, a crack
he stirs at photons’ mirth
tickling his parted lips
he moistens with a lick
the taste of day beckons
with a golden finger
running down his cheek
catching a teardrop

…he stands up.



**Tagged by a friend on Instagram for the topic “depression is a capricious lover.” So here’s my take.