I take my sensitivity for granted. Certain times of the month (read: PMS!) are more difficult for me than others. At those times, I become raw. I curl like a flower at night, protecting the stamen from the cold. My petals turn brown if they are touched. At those times, tears come quickly. Simple and … More And yet… I will show you the most excellent way.
Victory. It has come late, I had not learnt how to arrive, like the lily, at will, the white figure, that pierces the motionless eternity of earth, pushing at clear, faint, form, till the hour strikes: that clay, with a white ray, or a spur of milk. Shedding of clothing, the thick darkness of soil, … More To Arrive, Like the Lily, At Will
On nights like this, I don’t want to sleep. I don’t know if it’s a visceral reaction from my teenage years, or if it’s from staying up until 4:30 am after watching my sisters be murdered. Trying to avoid nightmares. I took my first drink at 16 when I was staying up late to avoid … More how did I ever fade into this life…
It has been a long week. The days have slipped by, and some days, I’ve been pushed to the edge of overwhelm. My saving grace has been that I ungracefully vomited some of my story last week at a recovery meeting. Tears and all. Falling apart in a way I never do. That moment gave … More Stained Glass Windows
Once upon a time, I stood at a door. I knocked. One. Two. Three times. The door to a small house, which had a small front room, and a smaller door under the stairs, and the smallest space where I curled myself up and pretended to not exist. I could hear them calling for me, … More “…inside my heart’s black box…”