All content on this page copyright © 2026 Andrea Scoretz
Spring Mules
Send love to February –
to thick, stubborn mules
pre-spring.
Won’t give up the fight for frost –
argues with bulbs
planted centuries
past, destined to bloom.
May 23, 2025
Venus conjunct Neptune in Aries
Let Me, Now
Let me serve the story
unfolding.
Give it yeast, salt and flour,
mixed with my own
2 hands.
Let me be
burdened
by the impulse
to try
to go forward,
not for perfection’s sake,
for the principle
of soul –
burning loins
of connection between
me and my brethren –
so I can see more than what’s wrong
and accept the lot
yet do something meaningful.
Anyway…
September 1, 2025
Fission
She called my views alt right
sent a picture of kittens
what are your thoughts on
nuclear fission?
Nuclear fission is a reaction in which the nucleus of an atom splits into two or more smaller nuclei. The fission process often produces gamma photons, and releases a very large amount of energy even by the energetic standards of radioactive decay
Heart Flowers
There’s a pathway that takes you
to the lake of flowers,
littered with frozen vessels,
nestled in the hills beyond all
that was thrown away.
Lost & stolen – some for profit,
Some to test if you could stand the fear enough to
let it fall off the cliff.
Their flowers heal hearts.
They grow from ancestors hands.
Long before the land was cultivated, made ripe for disposal of abandoned modes of travel,
Someone carried these trees on their back –
across the seas – and planted the essence
which could turn stone-wear to pure gold
if you let it.
I want to visit the lake
where healing heart trees multiply,
all on their own accord.
Do I dare pass by
the ways we used to travel –
The modes we disposed of?
Chilled by the haunting –
It’s the only way
I’m afraid.
But the skin over my heart needs
to feel the wisdom of these flowers, so
Now I’ll go.
– Feb 19 2025
Wisdom Delivery
Play that song, it feels like a memory
scenes frozen inside an anemone
Go blank & still – you sense something happen
The words don’t just form in a sentence
It’s not from me, this is something I can’t own
Quiet please, silence feels like home
He’s wrong, but never want him to leave again
The way he walked away makes me wanna bake bread
Walking tight-ropes, but I know what to do
Wrote a story ’bout the end of the flu
Shelter 1st gives me purpose in my efforts
I’m learning how to play my own record.
Walking with the wind, blown in every direction
Discovering life through the lens of correction
Jokes about dicks when no one can here me
Remedy the hurt through worlds you can’t see.
Be unique and carry on tradition
Develop the right growing conditions.
Eating wisdom soup, with ingredients organic
You’re going to have to learn to lance it.
Let it bleed – cauterize alone.
You’ll never feel ready or fully grown
Be unsure and survive the nervous tension
Give it more of your conscious attention.
– February 8 2025
I met a pauper
who convinced me he knew how to write in a princely hue
Imagine my fascination
to dis-cover
the seams of his coat
were lined with reflections of his past.
A mom who wouldn’t mother
And now, a child in full man’s form
Teaching how to loathe ones reflection.
Now tell me how to feel full – ever –
with a wad of of shame like that in your wallet.
-AS
January 10th, 2025
Friction is the path
Irritant asking for
surrender
won’t ever leave
until message delivered
in full.
-AS
Full Moon Stories
I am observing the way
light is shone
on my path
when i devote myself to walking.
When I run, exhausting
myself dry,
it’s heaven to notice my tired legs
nestled in grass
connected to the next phase.
No one can take me
from me
but me.
In spirit, guidance –
no prophet, preacher or pauper –
I am
divine abundance.
And so it shall be
Love.
-AS
From 1 to 9
you wouldn’t leave
script-sure alone.
A Never-Ending Story
protagonist meets fate
all ways, forever.
-AS
Give me the earth, but don’t tether me
to the soil.
Allow me the gift
of dirt sprinkled toes,
knowing where I came from,
& stoic truth of where I will
return.
Peering, curious with time,
enmeshed in the world,
concretizing The Work
of flight.
Anchored
with-out your words,
settling in & within.
– Andrea Scoretz – July 13, 2024
had by us all
Give me the grass
the wet
earth to become whole
I am drops that
fall
upon an earthly
experience
had by us all
at some point
in aether.
-AS
pearls
Friction is the path
The irritant asking for surrender
won’t leave until a message
is delivered in full.
– AS
legs
If i were a belief
i would want the right
to be altered.
should curiosity come along
to get the better of me
on center stage,
sparkling with a token
saying,
“that thing you’d given up on? it’s still got legs.”
i would want to hear it.
-AS
changing the locks
It took a while, for curiosity to activate
always trying to remedy the feeling
that something pertinent to survival was missing
Had to writhe in the vomit you fed me to find out what it really was.
Then i could begin to feed myself –
to reawaken to the joy of a slug trail
& feel safe enough to wonder
where it might lead me.
If I’d done it any earlier
I couldn’t be sure I’d survive your changing of the locks.
You were always threatening to do that –
that was the real monkey on my back.
-AS
WORLDS
There are world’s inside you –
the big bang –
no wonder you’re so nervous.
a universe comes alive
every time you shed
a rigid belief
or demeaning narrative.
you’re becoming a star –
filled with phosphorous
& carbon –
remember that
when someone natters at you in the comments.
there’s something more important happening –
a vastness
beneath the exterior
battles over oligarch scraps
& divisive archonic techniques
that taught you to squeal in the mud
and like it.
-AS
10 cm dilated
I’m looking for a reason to not want to leave.
It’s deep down in the cells though, and they aren’t about lies. They’re annoying. Pulsating. Makes my liver mad.
I keep testing to see if your territory is as unwelcoming as it feels – maybe I’m just crazy. But we’re at full dilation already. I put my feet on the ground below your chaise lounger and it trembles.
Am I a contagion? Or am I the earthquake made to break up your soil?
I could fight the process. I could fight you. I could tell you things, but then I’d only be “Say”-ing for the sake of longevity of this dying-off love affair.
What the fuck. I mean, we had a good run. Something happened here, for both of us.
But I can’t keep pretending to like the way you tell me to fuck off.
-AS
Dear Joe
I’m trying to stop you from coming to visit at night
I can’t see you but i know you’re there
I’ve been fighting with you for years – with the reality of your existence
I started to believe in you, but then, only that you had power over me
Then i started to see you
And notice how you are
Just like me
You feel afraid of realms you don’t understand
You want to keep feeding yourself a certain way – from me
You’ll wrestle with anything that seems to take from what grounds you
Even though your entire existence predicates upon movement
(You recently tried bacon fat and seemed to like it, so it’s clear you’re willing to try new things…)
Why are you clinging to me and branding yourself in my shins?
Why are we both so afraid of something we don’t know much of anything about?
And why do we both try to take the other out the way we do?
I think we can allow each other to exist. Even if we don’t tend to like the same foods.
I believe it’s possible.
I just need you to stop trying to eat me.
-AS
Repairing the split
May I be free of fragments –
May these glittering slivers magnetize
And take me home.
-AS
Everybody Now
Garish and grueling
ain’t that just the way
to get down
with this business
of reinvention?
One of these days
Sooner or later,
I’ll fall asleep,
Sooner or later,
I’ll everything.
Bubble Popping
I used to sacrifice myself for you
but i don’t do that anymore.
i used to fracture at the sight of rejection
but I don’t do that anymore.
I used to say, “I can’t take it,”
But I don’t do that anymore.
I used to want to show you what I can do
But I don’t do that anymore.
I used to C-R-A-V-E your approval
But I won’t do that anymore.
I used to hold you up, in a bubble
but I can’t do that anymore.
I used to want to keep the peace
But I don’t do that anymore.
The bubble has popped
And I won’t try to fix it anymore.
Exalted
I belong to the sun
exalted in the sands
where time moves slow
because I am free.
Because
i open my heart to you
when i don’t want to
because i need to.
I open my heart to you
‘Cause i know
it’s the only way
to open my heart to myself.
Sky Talker
A rapper’s words validated me
through broken falsetto
as beautifully true
as the north sky is wide.
Will you accept your blessings? he asked.
Oh my – that’s what those things are…
all the little things I cursed
glowing with grace,
right under my imperfectly perfect nose.
So I guess I should go with the current
instead of fighting it now.
And give thanks to the pebbles,
and the rocks,
I collide with along the way.
I guess I’ll keep talking to the sky
If it keeps telling the truth
No Moorage
Untie me from this ship,
The rhythm of what you want from me
Takes me away from myself.
Every Time
Every time I judge myself
I cling to the leg of systems
That are served by my suffering.
Through the Seams
Wear this suit,
He said,
And you will fit in.
Shame might sparkle through the seams
But it will comfort me to know
That the parts of you
I have forever feared in myself,
Are hidden.
Buckets
Cry me your buckets of tears
so I can see your signs
All 12
Let me see the man
and the woman
who must rise
for you to see
me – us – them –
that your I am
is mine,
and mine
is yours.
Know this –
you were taught to deny your entirety
it’s happening all the time
so don’t be afraid to see it.
New landscapes are built
from the grit of your journey
It’s not wrong
It just is
You build dynasties
from the ashes of your ancestor’s sins
Your chest may hold their pain
and your shoulders the atrocities of him
You may be a sponge
for the repercussions of the splintering of love
But it is time
to take your finger off the pulse
of something that’s long since dead
It is time to witness what’s being built
from the ashes
It is time to see the beauty being made from the madness
Trauma Bonds
I’m drawn to you
Because you hurt me
In all the intricate ways
I’ve learned
to hurt myself.
In me
I see the strength
and fragility
in 68 years.
I see the fear
and the 14-year-old
in 40.
I see the child in the man.
The little girl in the woman.
And I see them all in me, too.
If I can
If I can give,
even when I feel taken from,
I can live fully.
If I can allow my tap to flow,
even when the ones being offered to me are systemically stagnant,
I can grow.
If I can say, “OK, I accept my part in this,”
and not just blame others,
I can see that I am whole.
If I can be generous,
even when I feel choked of love,
I can be free.
2002
I didn’t need him
I wanted him
And he needed to reject me
We both needed to get more intimately acquainted with the cycle of abandonment.
And hell did we ever.
Hell is what it felt like at times,
He onto another as quickly as he left the last for me
And me, retreating further into the cycle of blaming myself for Every. Last. Issue.
“If only I’d been perfect…”
Fucking yuck.
It was messy and terrible
but it was part of a plan,
a plan neither of us had any clue we were a part of.
Every last ounce of ouch was savory perfection
And I wouldn’t trade the sting
For anything.
Stay
Stay with me, doubt said
If you get to know me
you won’t need to be so scared of me
You’ll learn that I’m in everyone
and only powerful
If you believe I am all there is.
Back To Born
Coming back to born
Could mean being ignored
Denied
Ostracized
By the ones who tore you away
From who you were
before you graced the planet
With your presence.
Beacons
I remember how quickly forever
became right now
How the tunnels became filled with light,
beacons for the unknown
to surface
and say
Take me in – I will set you free.
Channels
Bring me your broken dreams
And I’ll help you salvage them
Not replications of what you once craved
But newer; better; louder; deeper.
You don’t need to know how or why
Just believe that it can occur
Give your hopes to me –
In the unknown –
And I will make it so.
So shall it be.
North Gate
You are the northernmost gate
to your own healing.
You are redemption,
it bleeds from every pore,
invisible, yet felt as an unsedated slice
Your limbs scream and your hairs raise with inherent knowing
It’s verified, that you are your own fuel.
The years just distracted you from the truth for a while.
I don’t get it
Because I don’t get you
I will shuffle you into a category.
That way I can fear you more clearly.
The harder I push you
The more people will see
That I am not you.
Or am I?
I’ll market it as a decision based on superiority and intelligence
So no one will ever know.
Or will they?
Can they see what I’m doing?
I am so scared.
Sore Feet
I’m not going to chase you
My feet are sore from all this running
It’s so tiring
Trying to make you like me
When truthfully
You made your decision
Years before
The soles of these shoes
Wore out
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