Click to preview Bladed Wings photo book

A swollen feeling from the disjointed anthropomorphic webbings to the stringing puppet-line ligaments, singing in a graceful, yet miscalculated dance. Cheater, he said in jest. The room dark as I hid behind my own reflection in front of self. There were at least five deer and one seemed to overlook the sunken eyes of a passing soul. The chair beside him, not quite the same of the green hems of her company, but a familiar embrace. He was a bastard sometimes, yet we all are. My temperament glows like a hot kettle slapped across the milky way. Dissonant and protective, hiding behind the train whistles. “What are you currently listening to?” The fan overhead spins its shadows with a soft whirr as the humid dark sky is nothing more or less than a moment of stillness. They sang a song of North Carolina over sirens and screeching tires and I wondered if that was a sign to escape. Tell me how to love and heal. My eggs do not feel like they are protected by the hen.


About the Author

Melanie O'Neal
melanieoneal Raleigh, NC, USA

The human body is deconstructed in order to bring internal obstacles to light, which are challenged in the process of self-reconstruction. Shedding old skin creates a visual stimulus of an emerging metaphorical cocoon.

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BLOOD - Arts & Photography photo book
Published September 28, 2013

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