Open Sorcery

Tag: queer

  • It hits me like a rock…

    There’s a certain song on my YouTube Music likes that brings back a ten ton brickload of memories every time I hear it. “Hits Me Like A Rock” by CSS takes me straight back to August of 2017 every fucking time I hear it.

    I don’t quite remember how I came across it exactly, but I do remember that it was via Spotify somehow around the same time I entered into my first T4T relationship shortly after my 20th birthday and the total eclipse of the sun on August 21 of that year. I remember listening to it incessantly while I wrote what I later called the August Draft of the Third Prophecy along with Brazilian Girls’ cover of “Whip It” by Devo. I think I listened to both of those of those fucking songs they’re stamped into my viscera somehow. I was only with that girl briefly, but she fucking loved the Third Prophecy and was a phenomenal kisser, and she ended up inspiring a solid third of our 2017 album Mago. I hope she’s doing well.

    What a month. What a time.

    -Allēna

  • I didn’t mean to get overthrown…

    This piece was inspired by my poem “migraine”, which is published in full here.

    -Allēna

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  • So I hear y’all like TTRPGs on here.

    My poetry writing TTRPG is included in the bundle that just went live today (I’ll include a widget so you can find it directly), and I’ll post links to examples of poems I’ve written using it as well.

    The TTRPG:

    Some examples:

    One
    Two – “letter to theseus”
    Three
    Four – “a brief inquiry into the shape of time”
    Five – “sin eater”
    Six – “ariadne’s thread”
    Seven – “queer pressure”

    All six of these poems were written using Infinite Poems, and it’s helped me become a better poet and writer overall. I hope it helps y’all, too. Please don’t hesitate to reach out, tag me in what you make, and share this with your friends, foes, and anyone still under review!

    -Allēna

  • y’all get a two for one special tonight. this one’s called “queer pressure”.

    after careful consideration, i have determined

    that i didn’t know what it was like to put space between the 
    world and me, so i held everything and everyone at
    an artificial distance while seeing too close, held everything
    i ever earned in a vise grip and let myself slip into
    the grip of my vices

    i stared into the void so long that it blinked before i did 
    and then i mistook the deep nothing of it for your eyes
    until there was nothing left but a deep, deep hole

    here’s the thing about an addiction, though -
    admitting you have it is the first step toward vindication

    -Allēna 8/2/2025

  • this one is called “sin eater”.

    i think you seared ghosts into my bones
    down deep into the marrow

    and time may be round, but i am forced to remain here
    suffering, as all of time’s rivers and streams flow back into me
    and the specters of all the things you whispered and lies you screamed
    are made to ride with me too

    i am not religious, but i am spiritual
    and i am your confessor, always have been, 
    and i worry i always will be 
    grayscale, amoral, atemporal priest of these jagged streets
    i am the one person who will never forgive you
    no matter how hard you try to forget me

    where can i go and who can i turn to
    who can unmake, unbaptize, undo what you did to me
    when you already tried me by fire and inducted me 
    into your thorny order? so this is my confession:
    i didn’t want this, no matter how much you think i needed it
    and this life of yours? you can keep it

    -Allēna 8/2/2025

  • “to be the lightning”

    when the lightning strikes me back
    and my cracked-cup mind can no longer hold
    all the subtle fire it’s meant to contain
    find me at the edge of a cold, dark place

    i wanted to be the lightning,
    not simply the bearer of it, 
    but sometimes both dream and nightmare
    outpace me and i cannot find my way home

    so if the world begins to slant 
    remind my parched mouth
    that i am both cupbearer and bitter wine
    reforge both sides of my twisted spine

    when the lightning 
    strikes 
    me 
    back

    -Allēna 7/31/2025
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  • I call this one “song of experience”.

    you claim that i'm better than you, when in reality
    i’m nothing but a practiced poor player 
    who knows how to call fire and gold from nothing but words
    i stand before you and strut and fret my hour upon the stage
    in much the same way i did since i was a child -
    and when i became a teenager i found the voice of a haunted pipe organ
    that only increased in volume and resonance with time and skill
    and when i was 24 i unsexed myself and learned to roar
    got some damned spots on my hands 
    (i roar about them, too)
    i learned the difference between hard and soft, between open palms 
    and hidden knives
    and built a cathedral for my pipe organ voice 
    burnt out like a caravan or a candle a time or nineteen
    so don’t ever think you’re better than me
    learn to screw your courage to the sticking place
    dust off the keys, call the fire
    and sing
     07/28/2025

    -Allēna

  • I wrote this at the poetry workshop I went to today:

    i'm not sorry for the wisdom that pours out of me, breaking through the cracks, bursting at the seams
    i'm one of the rare few that can love to the point of invention, but believe me, I can hate to the point of invention, unapologetically
    and i'm not sorry for being myself -
    a gordian knot, a bois d'arc tree,
    a technicolor, queer, living scream you
    could never even begin to hope to parse, cut down to size in
    thirteen lifetimes.
    i've danced in the space between life and death more times than 
    you've ever given yourself permission to live 
    and you will never destroy me, not even in death. 
    the empires i've built and burned 
    out of beauty and rage, the space i've claimed and wars i've waged
    to create who i am when you don't even know who you are - and you are twice my age... i'm not sorry for that. 
    i've grown around you. i've loved around you. i've rested around you. i've learned that i didn't fucking deserve any of what you did to me. and i'm not sorry. 
    you should be.

  • This one is called “resurrection.” -Allēna

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    #writingcommunity #amwriting #amwritingpoetry #punk #cripplepunk #disabilities #survivor #cptsd #spilledink #spilledwords #trans #poetsofmastodon #gay #queer #queerwriter #rebirth #healing #rest #NEISvoid

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  • Me whenever someone tells me to “act normal” or “tone myself down” -Allēna

    #disabilities #queer #trans #neurodivergence #madstudies #strokesurvivor #queerart