Lazy Resolutions: An Oath From Hell

Today's promises

Can seem bleak tomorrow.

Distilling past the luminosity of a fresh commencement,

And the thorough troughs of the decrepit revolution's tarnished misdoings,

I find myself to be the same shoddy girl that walked into all those newly born years -

A despicable mess unable to handle all those crummily adorned tresses.

The year of the Rooster, 

I promise on the very threshold of our mother cosmos, will be different.

I swear.

I've resolutely refuse to battle with my stars - 

Need Orion slash me with his shaft,

Slit me into the quarter of an already half, 

This twelvemonth promises to be well-defining.

All those Suns back,

This girl defied her dole -

Thrived on Apollo to burn her out before her conscience got to her.

Listings were made on the eve of the oldest month,

Stating creations were to be created.

Seances were proclaimed,

To reinvigorate the effaced souls of the already dead year.

I promised,

But the first week is luckless,

To beget, puff or pant, seek raison d‘être or just be.

We must wait -

Wait for the seventh moon to seek haven in our mother's realm,

Because all the others were predestined for the fate of the purposeless.

Those listings we made,

Those pledges we promised,

Must wait for us.

For our sluggish, bone idle entities to earn the eternity of reposing they think they have the right to claim.

Saturday's lazy resolutions consigned to oblivion when Sunday came into the picture.

___

About Shai - An awkward, cloddish young woman yearning to get grasp of the adventure of a lifetime. An artist, storyteller, and pseudo-psychic. Predominantly brown and occasionally pretends to be Tina Belcher. Follow her at @sadgirliesclub on Instagram for upcoming stories documenting her journey as an illustrator and expanding her understanding of self and mental health.