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raininginmountains.bsky.social
Rain
@raininginmountains.bsky.social
24 followers 26 following 140 posts
aspiring author, west virginian lesbian, 21

my account to work on original stories and talk about appalachian stuff, mental health, and other things I feel bad about doing on my larger, more social account
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raininginmountains.bsky.social
#poetry #rainspoetry

a couple not quite worth posting individually
soul’s shell, emptied-out well, winter’s kiss, wit I miss,‌ bound by a holly crown, soul’s blight, sick by light,‌ summer’s touch, far too much,‌ by oaken reign I drown, begging prayer, where, oh where, may I thrive? Dance in the mourner’s mist, be swallowed by fog’s tryst, the grave you kissed, in demise you shall prance, bleeding by empty lance, robbed in a tired trance, falling deep into sleep’s bog, nothing left to even flog, trapped by harsh smog, a lifeless broken slave, neither bold nor ever again brave, never to again rave
January 25, 2026 at 3:41 AM
raininginmountains.bsky.social
‘seven color dew’ - is all dew seven shades, false or true?

#poetry #rainspoetry
Red-streak dawn’s yawn, by the deer-path creek, there lies a single drop, of seven-color dew, rainbow in hue, Born under a breath, unloved by death, marked fog worn, rainbow in hue Laughing birds call, of signs they caw, rainbow in hue
January 18, 2026 at 6:52 AM
raininginmountains.bsky.social
barely any progress today, but i settled on a 'starting' name for one character and am writing a small scene to set the tone of appalachiaslop

Ruby Norn Underwood, who is totally cisgender and extroverted and not at all crushed by parental expectations (lol)
“Ruby Norn Underwood!” The shrill voice ripped her out of thought, tearing her into the world of the living. “Get your head together, you are attracting attention! Look forward, stand up straight.”She tried to bury herself into the mess of her hoodie, the winter chill her only excuse to bear that slice of armor, but it was to no avail, the ‘perks’ of buying tailored clothes biting at her. The more she tried to hide, to avoid awareness, the more all the stares tore into her - the parking lot full of churchgoers scattering to the winds, old and young alike turning towards the commotion.
January 17, 2026 at 12:16 AM
raininginmountains.bsky.social
lunch - as blasphemous as it probably is, I cut up sirloin to fry with white mushrooms, while the mixed veggies are added when served because my father has no teeth
January 12, 2026 at 7:10 PM
raininginmountains.bsky.social
'like the moon above'

#rainspoetry #poetry #chronicpain
a heart shaped by pains like the moon far above, my will waxes and wanes bound by aching chains, a one-winged white dove, a heart shaped by pains, plagued by crimson strains, cold even to what I love, my will waxes and wanes, no relief fills my veins, ruined by a single shove, a heart shaped by pains, unable to grasp the reins, agony all I am made of, my will waxes and wanes, burnt and crumbled brains, numbed by merciless glove, a heart shaped by pains, my will waxes and wanes
January 8, 2026 at 10:56 PM
raininginmountains.bsky.social
#poetry #rainspoetry

i went outside for a moment today and felt my migraine calm a bit, had me thinking of when i was younger and the morning mist was one of my few joys - it was rawer, when i was young and lost and the world was slightly less polluted
January 7, 2026 at 3:37 PM
raininginmountains.bsky.social
reposting poetry from my nsfw account bc it fits this one's theme

#appalachia #appalachian #poetry #rainspoetry
Old blood, runnin’ down the crick, dancin’ orange with sulfuric taint, mountain’s tears, how very quaint, lives burnt faster than candle’s wick,‌ Suit up and get that nice ol’ degree, forgot that hillbilly mountain talk, write them nice words in white chalk, quit that dancin’ under the ash tree, Go ‘fore the mines take ya true, go and forget that mist and dew, go and forget the beauty too,‌ go and we won’t mourn you What, o’ hwat, took them folks, toilin’ hard down the holler road, was it that damned red-hat hoax, did they reap what my pap a-sowed? They was a good an’ hardy sort, though pa can’t spell any name, we even sold ‘em a shine quart, what happened, a damn shame,‌ Ol’ red’s puttin’ em in the camps,‌ lookin’ to give all a spook and scare, to cheers from white-old gramps, yet from his wife, a sad prayer,‌ Ain’t no king’s love for the hills, huntin’ easy while chokin’ hard, hungry to buy up our last wills, to pay for a rich man’s lard Once, o’ a-once, a rich sort saw, saw them hills untouched by man, said they were pure and true, ‌wanted to buy a share So he sought a country’s law,‌ to buy a great and vast span,‌ of splendid verdant-grass hue birdsong and tree and hare, First he wept in earnest awe,‌ then the man so-proudly began, to gather up a poor-paid crew, to turn hills into ruined square, Huntin’ for that sweet coal, raw, a great profit for this rich plan, as corpses of all sick sorts grew, caught in the corporate snare Taste that fog-kissed mornin’ air, dance to its tune without care, before its swallowed by waste,‌ polluted by hungering glance, Checks will offer a moment’s rest, peace from hunger at joy’s behest, yet they’ll make it mining projects, stealing the land’s soul piece by piece Song from the city won’t praise, hick hurtin’ a buyer’s bottom line, they’ll a-call you inbred and wrong, pointin’ praise ta neighbor’s bootlick
January 7, 2026 at 2:23 PM