quint.essence

the quintessence
of the initial draft
a chaos of emotions
boiled down over a thousand
cups of blue bottle coffee
matched by morning
suns

#katyamills

drafting

one way to start fresh on a piece of writing is not worry about anything. let the words go. care less of punctuation which can be righted in the editing phase. come back to it later. let the rhythm get top billing. storytelling gets VIP treatment. this is a free write so let it be free.  #katyamills

drafting the steam (remix)

out from within
i am burning
a reverse
shot of gin

i patch nightmares
through clothes
mending sorry

lost souls

i am incendiary

a solar flare 

cannot handle 

with care

from samsara
i dream to awaken 

from thanatos 

to you holding me 

close

i am the steam 

drafting

though life 

i do love

#katyamills

dominoes. heaps of clothes -i

We got pushed and shoved until we formed into something bigger than the pushes and shoves, something resilient and not without a heart for a fight. Outcasts on the margins and nowhere else we wanted to be. You could see it in our eyes, night after night. One could tell that's how we hooked up, you and me

all i got this morning is you
all you got is me
and two battle ax lounge ax young
blood kittens

suffer some more and you will
have something

we are daft
      first draft
we are punk

tough shit if anyone thinks they know
how we will work out

peanut butter jelly
and skunk

me and you of all the meanings
could be derived. like the mountains
a long long time ago

even when it was now
me and you got drive.
and never will be
again

i kinda wish sometimes
we were still
friends

LA and DV and ADDICTION

Draft material from the Daughter of Darkness series...

(this chapter refers to Maze's mother and family)




" LA was a long way from here, but his mom was a short distance to his heart. She was a social worker and worked to help women like herself escape from situations and cycles of domestic violence. She was the shoulder to cry on that she never had. She had a fine memory of her own necessary flight from danger, and the hundreds of half-baked efforts which preceded the determination she ultimately summoned to leave half her offspring in the hands of God and her sisters to look after. The kisses on their little heads. The telling them it was gonna be okay, when she herself was not convinced. The every little setback she encountered on her traveling up and across the border and into the suck of American culture, had her pining, sometimes bodily, to return to her many loves. Her family. All spoiled by one splendid scoundrel and fool who knew only how to transmit his self-hatred by beating on the one who loved him the most. He considered her a permanent fool for being permanently smitten with him. What was he worth? He considered himself, like his father before him, to be garbage. The more he beat her in the alcoholic stupor, the more he hated himself. The more he hated himself, the greater a fool she became for standing by him. So he would make her suffer, and prove himself right about both of them. Never worried and never conjuring any image of what life might be like if she grew a spine and left him. Which is why he went on his own mental vacation and never returned, after she did. He could smile and laugh at anything. The anger was gone. He no longer needed a home or anyone to support. He could see his remaining kids and not recognize them, somehow. Yes, it was sad. But the strange way he reacted made the depths of his loss a bit easier to bear. For now the people called him smiling old man, with nothing to smile about. "

Impressions? Keep it or lose it?
You can read Book One of this series here... Grand Theft Life