United States

she/her | mixed
aspiring scientist and writer | musician

status: constantly eating cheetos

joined: late april, 2020

Message to Readers

I feel like I could get more descriptive in this poem. There’s a lot of room to develop imagery and different literary devices.

Also I think the formatting got screwed up sometimes because of the website format?

she forms galaxies from papier-mache

June 7, 2020



it is a biological anomaly, how she managed to do it.
                                [create it, shape it, morph it, be it].

        every thousand millennia, she arises from her ebony shroud and lets periwinkle stars dust her shoulders,
                        fine velvet moons and satin stars draping around her neck.
            she dons her planetary scarves and satchels, 
                                                                and paints the world anew. 

it is a biological anomaly, how she crafts constellations from deprivation,
                planet nations from consternation, yet orion and lyra cloak
    her chest, and whisper secrets with her amongst the darkness, and corona
                               borealis mounts her brow and declares her queen
        in her sparkling glory. once, this universe was vacuous, draining, empty,
                but she sewed together cotton strings of ivory planets and ebony moons,
                                                               and weaved together the fine threads of the universe

and it could never be an anomaly, how she scorched
            the supernovae in her rage, crushed nebulae with tightened fists of star dust. 
                                                [and now the universe smells of flaming flesh, but once,
                                                she scented it of lavender and honeysuckle until she burned
                                                and burned and burned]

and every thousand millennia, her skin sags, eyes droop like failing comets, and she pulsates dark
    energy from her wrinkled palms so that the galaxies that she made from careful
                papier-mache will be shoved apart, ever expanding, ever dying, ever exploding,
        and then she falls back into silken slumber
                                                        to paint it anew again. 
I guess I have a thing for sewing and threads since my last poem involved that? Anything to get rid of writer’s block though?


See History

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  • delete

    Hey Cressida. You said you wanted to review one of my pieces? I’ve got a little poem here if you would like to look at it, no rush though!

    6 months ago
  • delete

    OUTSTANDING! Cressida, I’m absolutely amazed by your metaphors of space and planets and how you make them human. This is just art and I can totally see all your imagery being made into a comic or painting. I’ll leave a review now and say more!

    6 months ago
  • joella

    i feel bad because i haven't been active on your profile lately, but your writing is gold. this is definitely no exception. i love the formatting! "it is a biological anomaly, how she crafts constellations from deprivation,/ planet nations from consternation, yet orion and lyra cloak/ her chest," this line is everything. wow.

    6 months ago
  • happy butterfly


    6 months ago
  • RegentCorgi

    I am IN LOVE with this!

    6 months ago
  • Anne Blackwood

    The first time I read this I was in a rush, but now that I had time to relax and appreciate it, I am even more awestruck.

    6 months ago
  • outoftheblue

    i love "corona borealis" so much, i don't even know why.

    6 months ago
  • mia_:)

    This is absolutely stunning! WOW!

    6 months ago