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Lark Morrigan
Poet seeking the ethereal. Writer exploring the inner mind. Bird in spirit longing for home. Website:

Last updated: Jan. 31, 2021

Welcome to my little home (er…bird’s nest) on Medium!


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. …

Free Verse

I have never fully
searched the depths within,
for I fear
that through
all the wandering
and all the questioning
and every wayward journey
through ages in-between,
I will only see
that I am unknowable —
the soul is fragmented
beyond repair,
and even if I search far
and wide for every missing piece,
there is no certainty
that I will be present
in my entirety.

I live in fear and trembling,
and sleep in the dead of night
with one eye open,
yet I fail to see
the very things
that would bring the newness
of life to me.

Like many of you, I don’t feel at ease with myself. I wish I did. It’s a rare and beautiful thing and most people who get it right go through life with finesse, as if it were an art form that must be mastered and transformed into excellency.

I know it is doable. It isn’t reserved for the lucky few. It is something worthwhile to consciously work on and refine. Deep down, I believe that I can do it. I, too, can move with ease, filling my life with beautiful, lyrical things that fill my mind with wonder and possibility.

Free Verse

I am beginning
to see my reflection
through the eye
of a flame —
and it reveals
who I truly am
and who I could be
without the cold
surface of the glass
to keep me trapped
in a permanent reality.

I do not merely see
myself as who I am,
but I see a possibility,
a breathtaking wonder,
a soft and subtle
that I once deemed
as improbable,
as nothing more
than a false and dying dream
compounding upon
lack and misery.

A single flame
may not be enough
to warm my heart
or put me at ease
with the world around…

Free Verse

My cup is empty
and though my tears
fill it from time to time,
they are never enough to give—
because every drop
is filled with bitterness,
because shame
keeps them hidden,
because my sorrows
consume me
like a cold fire from within.

Who has the power to tell me
what I cannot do?

Who has the power to tell me
that I am still never enough
for the very things
that will change me for the better?

Who has the power to tell me
that I am unworthy
of taking hold
of what little I have
to set me free?

Reflections on my writer name change two years later

On July 16, 2019 I changed my name on every profile from my given name to Lark Morrigan.

I didn’t want certain people in real life to access my content. I knew they wouldn’t respect my privacy, and though it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out who I was, I went ahead with the name change anyway.

I had some doubts. I thought I was crazy to abandon conventional advice for writers — to present your writings as yourself if you want to be widely known in the future instead of using a pseudonym. A third of my followers…

Free Verse

My heart stands
before an open field,
willing to lay itself down,
an act of surrender,
a moment of respite
from a world that demands war
within and without—
but my soul will never rest.

I seek peace
with the many unknowns
circling in flight,
but for reasons
beyond my control,
I only wage a battle —
a vain attempt
at a coup d’état,
one that would
who I was meant to be.

My heart knows
itself to be weary
and no longer longs
for the war to rage on —
but my soul
refuses to restrained
from soaring through
greater heights,
freed from the tyranny

What are you drawn to? Whose creative work leaves you in awe? What do you study obsessively?

Consistency is something I struggle with. So is my perception of self-worth and what it means to live a good life.

Every time I read something inspirational or an article that helps me introspect, I feel like I have a firmer grasp on myself.

But then I fall into periods of time where I lose myself again and realize that I don’t actually understand myself that well… or rather, I do at a basic core level, but I keep ignoring it out of fear of insufficiency — which stems from fearing how I may appear in others’ eyes.

In my…

Free Verse

Have I lost my voice,
or am I just beginning
to truly listen to it
as it was meant
to be heard —
as unobtrusively as possible,
almost as if
it were merely the breeze
laying its hands
upon the grave?

Silence passes through
and these measures
of my soul are blank —
and though the winds
mock me with their
air of indifference,
it is the haunting
within, forged by
my cynical observations
and fractured imagination,
that leaves me empty.

And I am a messenger
for nought,
as a nightingale
with songs stolen
by the treacherous night,
as a sparrow
with her feeble…

Have you internalized a “if I’m not at the top of something, I am undeserving, unworthy, and utterly valueless” message? Do you feel like nothing you do is ever good enough?

Do constantly feel as if you need permission to begin building a life that is fulfilling to you?

Do you feel as if people are secretly judging you for doing ordinary things and not doing anything particularly special?

I’ve been there. I know how draining it feels to believe that your self-worth is contingent upon “being the best” and that anything you do — even if you do change…

Lark Morrigan

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