I have dreamt and forgotten, dismissed the unkempt corners of an otherworldly room.
I have taken what the elders say into consideration, shaken myself free of intuition.
I have lingered in the company of some familiarity, worn my mother’s ring or clung to nickels.
I have proudly sung of my contentedness with contentiously long bones flung forward into disillusion.
I have thrown myself out, tasteless and uprooted what was good and flavorful in favor of a menu.
I have recently refilled the oil in my lamp but kept it covered to avoid indecency and accusations by the joyless as they empty bowls.
To My Thieves
Poetry by Emma Biggerstaff
Puppets, universal you are teachers motive matters but does not decide what the pupil learns and some matriculate while I myself pass notes mistaking all for good
Upon graduating from a university in 2016 with degrees in Linguistics and Fine Art, I moved from the Southeast to the Northwest United States (more specifically, North Carolina to Oregon). I take photos and write and travel and am primarily interested in connection.
Though I have previously operated in the medium of visual art, the past year has been one for words. With a focus on art as a means of diplomacy. I seek to promote curiosity, understanding, thoughtfulness, wisdom, empathy, and peace.
My focus is on creating environments and building relationships where deep connection and unity of spirit can coexist among opinionated, passionate, and open-minded individuals.
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases at no extra cost to you. This site contains affiliate links to products. We may receive a commission for purchases made through these links. For more information, see my disclosures here.
![https://evepoetry.files.wordpress.com/2021/08/360da-36380021.jpg"](https://evepoetry.files.wordpress.com/2021/08/360da-36380021.jpg"){kind=link}