One day, I will look back on this moment and I will have so much grace for myself.
I will see how much grief I carried and will be impressed at my strength.
I'll hold my own hand and rub my own shoulder with an overwhelming urge to comfort.
Oh, how I deserved to feel comfort.
Why did you leave me here?
What errand did you run?
Did you know how much it scared me?
Half of me stares, unfocused, at nothing in particular. I, her, we dissociate. Pleasantly warm, feeling nothing emotionally. Mentally, I remain in neutral. How good it feels to be nothing at all! Half of me flips rapidly through a rolodex of stories, half-baked daydreams. If only I could catch
And when I see you my heart crumbles to dust. For as lovely and healing as I am, you are as fearful and wounded. I am sad for you-- how painful must this be! I am sad for me, but I know that while I am deserving of love, this
I didn’t go to the party for this moment. I stayed home to sit by the window-- cat on my lap, writing by candlelight-- so that when the sky opened up, I would be there with the window open, to let the warm petrichor waft through. I skipped to
Who is she? This woman within, who I keep fossilized, buried under years of dirt in the sand that packs my soul. How could I let her become forgotten? Exploited, abandoned in man’s endless conquest. When did the rest of my being grow so dry? I once was a