"The light in your eyes is the light at my heart"

In blackest night are scattered many small suns
Their gentle light guides, points me on my way.
Stripped of atmosphere's veil, the timid eye runs:
Flees radiation; yet stubbornly I stay.

Far too long has each steady star
Steered my course safe, through fear, doubt and strife
While I stayed distant, kept afar
Unable to repay this debt of life.

When turmoil to the heavens come
And shake thy stars from their accustomed spheres
Of these troubles, kindly tell me some
Perhaps my words can help to ease your fears.

When wanderers consent to share their guiding light
No longer do we suffer empty, lonesome flight.
lonely, spock


I stand strong; I stand alone.

There's this knot inside my soul, behind the wall,
and I know my inner child is screaming and crying,
but I,
I am an adult,
and I stand,
and I stand strong,
and I stand alone.

It would be too easy to double over crying,
but I'm driving, and I can't look away from the road,
and I'll have to drive an hour before I get home. So I stand. I look.
I don't look behind, not really,
just glances back into the rearview,
watching for hazards about to overtake me.

The end of the world doesn't come
in claustrophobic screaming hysterics half in the dark
like the end of the last world did.
This world ended with the sky as witness,
kind and close and clouded
and so impersonal and unfair.

I kneel;
I gather myself to my feet;
I stand tall with my chin up high and refuse to beg.
I stand. I stand.
I stand alone.
running, bomb tech


Blue-veined cream unscrolls before the twitching ink,
subtle curves and jagged patterns.
Lines trace history from side to side,
relentless, every way but forward.
Underground, there is a rumble
Rocks shifting as the world sleeps.
With pen on paper trace what could be words.
They can read between the lines, they with eyes to read.

Heart and soul submersed in city;
Home is driven deep in ancient glass.
Coffee-cup canary in a coalmine deep as death
Sing signals on your wires.
Jitter, catching, scratching,
dip your pen in poison laced with ink.
Mechanical Cassandra
Reading of the rocking, roiling earth.

O, seismometer, which of these foretells our doom?
Your hand adjusts the scales.
Write the spikes.
Which of us will wake the sleeping dragon?
documentation, writing, quill


I whisper "I love you" as a prayer. Our eternity is ephemeral, dissolving in my grasp until I build it day by day. Tomorrow could break the fragile spell though I have sworn it is forever. How cheaply others sell their forever. Brick by brick, I will be different, but we all swear as we start. My old oaths are broken bottles around these eggshell pipedreams of you and love and eternity. How dare I swear forever. The words shatter as I speak them. Our past is solid. The future is unwritten, but I dare to write it. Day by day I prove the oath I swore in vain.
documentation, writing, quill

Right, so I'm a Lunatic.

I have no idea what the title of this random companion story to "A Cup of Time" is called, except it's perhaps supposed to involve an elemental tool and an extended element. But the Cup of Time lady? Her husband? Works for the same company that Our Heroine gets snagged into.

Workplace was inspired by a workplace that I have heard of. Jenny was inspired by a denizen of said workplace. Bosslady was inspired by a photo of a friend. And that's where the story started.