Silke Van den Broeck

Thinking about software, nervous systems and herbalism, and sometimes writing about it.

you weaponised hope plucked it from the sky and shoved it down my throat right into my beating heart

it still flutters, sometimes a tiny creature in a violent world it looks at me trembling, tired-eyed

I caress its tattered feathers before I gently twist its neck lay it to rest, finally and let the grief wash over me