Magical Origin Story

So if you have been looking through the links in my sidebar for the rest of my social media, you may have noticed that, on the occasions in which I am not identified simply by my name, I go by edenburned (for those who are wondering why I am Kyra Jensine Jones in everything, it is because a) there are a surprisingly large number of Kyra Jones' out there and b) I just really love my middle name and don't really get to use it enough). *deep breath* Anyways, while edenburned might seem like a slightly random choice, there is actually a story behind it, and thus, today I bring you the *magical origin story* behind my social media handle. A year or two ago, I was looking for a handle to use across all my social media (those which were not simply my name). I wanted something that I could use across everything easily, that was really pretty, but also wasn't tied to any trends or to something I was really into at the time (forever regretting vampire_kisses9 and the fact that you literally cannot change your YouTube user name unless you delete your entire google+ profile - if you were wondering, I ended up making an entirely new email for the express purpose of being able to have a new YouTube account where my username was not dictated by what my 15-year-old self thought was cool). Anyways, in my quest for a good, long lasting username that I would not end up hating, I was looking back through my writing to see if I could find a phrase or wording that I really liked. Though the actual phrase 'eden burned' isn't used in the below poem, it was from this poem that I derived the name "edenburned" which is now ubiquitous across my entire online presence, save the URL for this blog, which will change once my year abroad for school comes to its close (just so you're forewarned).

Also, you may have noticed that there are now two more pages available in my sidebar, one of which is the design portfolio I mentioned before, the other one of which is just my poetry (though I will probably continue putting poems up on here, as at some point I am going to have to start writing new ones, and its good to have some pressure when writing).

So, a poem, which has shaped my entire social media presence:


Eden

There’s a whisper in the red of nails drawn across skin
Something so innocent, like a diseased fruit of Eden
Something so profane, like black lace slithering down
It sits hunched and ugly on the bathroom counter in July
Watching with disinterest as I shiver on the cracked floor
It follows me from place to place.

She sits in the dirty diner like she owns the place
The tattoo on her neck a vulgar sigil etched into her skin
Legs stretched out as brown biker boots dig into grey floor
There’s a forest in her eyes like a burnt Eden
The flies buzzing past my head remind me of the choke of July
And I can’t stop myself from sliding down.

I know that there’s nowhere left for me to go but down
But I still ask if there’s a better place
The sign cheerfully states that the bathroom was last cleaned in July
And she tastes like smoke and rain and dry, chapped skin
And there’s a lost paradise in that burnt and broken Eden
Dragging heavy soles back across that gunmetal floor.

The air stretches solid like ice from the roof to the floor
And I can’t help but let myself sink and shiver down
Wishing for the world before the morning star rose over Eden
So that I could stand to stay for more than a minute in a place
Without feeling like I was growing and stretching out of my skin
And the sun would always be soft and hazy like it was July.

There’s cold lips that press against those black teeth in July
The walls have peeled and the blood never got washed off this floor
And there’s something crawling under my skin
Though there’s nothing to be done but swallow it down
And I know that there’s no way back to that place
All that’s lost could be named a kind of Eden.

Her name is thick on my tongue as we approached Eden
Grating in my throat like the fires that burn down July
And like a dutiful daughter I take my place
Screwing my feet into my designated spot on this dance floor
Letting my arms rise and my jaw dip down
As shivers rip and tremble across blue skin.

It emerged the moment I found Eden on the dirty white floor
It followed me from that July day, letting me dance further down
Leading me screaming to my place, hollow inside my own skin.