Last updated: Aug. 22, 2021
Welcome to my little home (er…bird’s nest) on Medium!
Bio
Hello. I’m Lark Morrigan. I’m glad you are here.
As a poet and writer, I’m currently in the stage where I’m just trying to put myself out there, prove to myself that I can overcome debilitating self-doubt, and become a better poet and writer than I was when I started out — nothing more but certainly nothing less.
I don’t have a niche and don’t see why I should box myself in by picking one. Most of the time, I write poetry and self-reflective musings on personal growth and mental health. …
The theme of being an outsider has permeated my entire life. However, it has only intensified more recently — perhaps I have grown more aware of all the blind spots, weaknesses, and unresolved feelings about how I should show up in the world versus how I should not show up in the world.
There are many unspoken rules — from the macro (on how to navigate through life with ease) to the micro (specific habits that you should have to be a better person or to accomplish a certain goal). …
A Dystopian Short Story
August 29, 2072 A.D.
“XTY1892091?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“Score?”
“28, Group D, sir.”
The officer jotted down the number and score and carefully examined the list.
The intern looked up and instantly recognized the look on the officer’s face.
“Cut?” The intern feared the worst. Please let it not be true. Please let it not be true. Please let it not be true.
“Yes,” the officer replied. There was no hint of pity or sadness. Just a stone cold face. …
Free Verse
My cadence has been off,
and the notes
aren’t reverberating
or harmonizing
as they should.
The chord will no longer
resound or carry the weight
of a soul diminished —
I am drifting further
and further off-key.
I am constantly inverted,
flattened, and changed
from major to minor —
with many deviations
from the root,
the note where
I was supposed to begin
and continue freely.
I have been decomposed
into a discordant song
where nothing
is in unison.
This canon
is no longer my own —
it has become the canon
of those who would rather
have me reduced
to forgettable and pitiful…
Have you ever thought the following?
“I can’t be successful because I am inherently unacceptable to other people.”
“I don’t want more of things I’ve been told I’m supposed to want, but I’m judged as being an incomplete person, especially when it comes to things that bring more external validation.”
“My dreams involve a very specific set of values and actions, so they will not be popular, yet I’ve accepted that. But I feel like others are viewing my talents as lesser.”
Maybe you feel like something is inherently wrong with you just because you don’t want what others typically…
Micropoetry
I may travel quietly
and it may appear
that I am not going far
or arriving anywhere,
but how I appear
is not the entire story,
I am not my beginning,
I am not who I will be
in the end.
The winding road
is the only way home,
I should have realized this
long ago.
Seasons may be with me,
and seasons may be
against me,
but my spirit knows
that the autumn winds
will carry me further
than the tempests
of summer —
I am not a soul
meant to be tossed
about or forced
by great and terrible gusts,
no matter how high
they promise to lift me…
