boston <3

United States

my name is mya (chaya davida)--
she/they (??)
pisces sun, aries moon, gemini rising (infj-a/t)--
“there is a poem scratched on the walls of my throat
no one has heard it
but it is here.”

Message from Writer

--currently reading: dealing with dragons (patricia c wrede)
--i've been published in flare journal's fifth issue!!

the show

May 21, 2021

sometimes, i believe that i am unlike any other.
listening to that swelling violin is all it takes to stir it all up. all the heaviest moons and big, windy places and deepest colors: a whole world of possibility lives in my chest (right between my ribs). 
the crescendo is my spark every time. the anticipation, the rising power. i feel the strings’ static tremble off my hands, in my appetite. 
so i learned to play the violin. 
to be the swell, the crescendo. i am the waves, with all their crashing and their slamming, their drama. i run, i dance and scream and put on a show for the cities down there in the blue, bringing those ocean beasts fire back from the sun Herself. blazing in my brilliancy and brightness, i carry the force of G-d’s thunderstorms on my back. 
i am the maximum. 
i am infinite.

(and the weight of it burns. 
and then, it crushes. 
but at least i put on a show, right? 

sometimes, i don’t feel strong enough to carry the weight of thunder, to yield fiery warmth or move with the crash of waves. 
sometimes, i can’t be the music. the swell. i can’t even breathe. 

what if i never fill up those big, windy places, and that world of possibility between these ribs grows dusty and stale?
what if by the time i can breathe again, the big, windy places have disintegrated, and the world of colorful possibility has rotted? and i’ve forgotten how to even play my scales?)

—because as much as it crushes, i live for the thrill of the show.


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