Funeral

Funeral by Artemis

Lifeless limbs caress the forlorn floor,
A lingering scent of melancholic misery
Kisses air as stagnant as a heart
That has ceased to be a muscle
To be molded into the container for a love
As broken as itself.
Fluttering fingers wander over cracked skin
That used to be silk and sin
Interwoven by a steady hand.
I can’t even touch myself anymore
Because with all this loneliness
Creeping through my voracious veins
It feels too much like yours


<strong>Artemis</strong>
Artemis

My name is Artemis, though I go by Krissi offline, which sounds considerably less mysterious and substantially more practical. Writing has always been a passion of mine – as has been alliteration-heavy poetry like my alias suggests.

I started writing novels at the age of 13, though inventing and writing stories has been an integral part of my existence ever since I can remember. Poetry has accompanied me for many years now—which makes me sound a lot older than the 20 years I am—it’s my way of exploring my innermost feelings and the world around me.

For me, writing has always felt as if words and images were simply invading my mind and pouring out of my fingertips onto the paper – which usually translates to fanatical typing on my phone. It appears I’m merely the medium for my thoughts and feelings, allowing them to enter physical existence. 

Thank you for taking the time to get to know me a little better. If you enjoy my work and are interested in catching a glimpse of my mind, I welcome you to visit me on Instagram under @alliterative_artemis

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