Peel

Hollowed and cold The papered flesh Abides the wither fold It speaks in constance A shedding wrapped Upon the memory Of its core Inside It comes undone Powdering to dust And with each gust Hollows still It is the shell That holds the secrets Of trauma wound While it decays within The facet forward Hides the truth

Only the bark remains of an upright but internally rotten Silver birch, the wood inside powdered and disintegrating. (Betula pendula)

2018 Nikon D60, 55-200mm Lens.

Photographed in situ, without the use of artificial lighting or staging. Photoshop only used for resizing.

1024x685 300dpi JPEG

Today is my 3rd anniversary on Tezos, within the fourth year in isolation, but a new beginning.

This past year has been a whirlwind of near constant compounding traumas, deaths and interwoven heartbreaks which has been enmeshed with the global horrors and the falling of an empire. I feel like a different person within my internal world. I have become something new, healing my own body and mind, being my own physician and my own advocate. I am alone, and have only myself to rely on to begin this new cycle.

I don't have time. But I'm still alive.

Tezos Anniversary - Year 3