If my heart has hardened, there is no one else to blame. I have never been a woman unaccustomed to the shame and bitter rebuke of who loved me, every bitter word a hound that tore flesh from my bone and did not pause to heed the sound of other hunters heeling, watch and wait; … More blood & oak
I was never brilliant, I was never bold; anything I ever touched has never turned to gold. Quiet toil daily, seed the soil old; silver is the next best thing for dull and shy, base souls. … © 2018 Anna-Christina Betekhtin, All Rights Reserved.
Choke the smallest kindness, scorch the frozen earth; do not give the foolish merchant what it is not worth. Bury all the letters, burn the soft old shirts. You will cling to anything that will become dark dirt. Nothing soft to stay and soothe, everything will be abused by time; so cheat it. Kill it … More ruin
This was a year ago, when things were very different. Suffice to say that one sunny September afternoon, after a friend knew that the Biology department needed someone, the professor led me down to the basement and the turtle room. A lab, rows and rows of vials, whirring machines, refrigerators, the scratches of mice at … More the ballad of ferdinand the turtle
Burn the city and salt the earth. Nothing that has any worth will stay and thrive; stretch and dry the speckled hides of antelope under desert sky. Let the olive orchards die. Leave the citadel in ruins, repent on the long walk west. Leather ties bind wrists to oxen, lead them lowing on unbeaten paths. … More oxen & antelope
Sing a song of misery, let the heart collapse. There is nothing left to mourn save what is crude and crass. Aching arms and blistered feet, bloody hands and raw, red meat; repeat the lies you once believed and give in to the bitter grief. … © 2017 Anna-Christina Betekhtin, All Rights Reserved.
*discusses assault* … When I was young, I was nearly run over by a bicycle from behind. Asphalt-burnt knees and heavy breathing, the softest gust of air before it happened, the wind knocked out of me. How he kept on going, the retreating wheels in the distance. How my mother cursed him, the dogs shied … More footsteps & wheels & stairwells
anna-christina betekhtin 