wayward tendrils tug at swollen pockets beneath my skin stretch marks reaching for the remnants of you the roughness of fingertips trailing along the ridges of my spine alone, for what? the echoes of a stifled scream contained a bruised skull makes for colorful dreams tears become flowers when time becomes free a lone voice enters cajoles me back to life do you remember this is how it hurts toenails scraping the edges of scars criss-crossing

i high-fived a friend yesterday the first physical contact my body has had in over 4 months a convergence of longings celebration found within a moment the ache of nostalgia gasping for life my fingertips keep reaching out crawling along the backbone of a passing wind the determined legs of a spider extending begging hoping…

I am not doing well. This is not to say, I’m not ok. I’m pretty ok. I am holding down an almost full-time job, regularly holding space for my clients, growing a healing-centered business (in addition to the almost full time job) and am staying fairly financially stable. I am…

Now is not the time, she tells me You are still bleeding out I have no idea what she means Or perhaps I do Feigning innocence in the aftermath of war If I look the other way, I will not see the blood gushing down my arms, soaking the carpet…

to navigate to wander to stumble along a heart must trust the sun’s rise each morning the gentle bow of the moon as it greets the edge of the world inside i feel i sense i wonder what is happening there what might be happening here a weight drops, shoulders…

there’s something i am refusing to harvest, words i am avoiding, the taste of syllables scraped clean off my tongue. there are stories inside me overgrown by neglect— even i have forgotten they are there. something old courses through my veins this evening, sparking fires that clench tight around my…

It broke apart when I tossed the second one away, a guilty pleasure almost, discarding a perfectly functional mug for selfish joy. I could hear that first one shatter as the heavier, older mug dropped into the bin. Let them go, the voice inside me begged. …

there is a moment now and then when i catch myself whispering to a moon that has hidden itself from the sun’s light. when i catch myself excavating for tears that should have been shed decades ago. there is an ancient pull to the no moon, the dark moon, the…

where do you find the corners in a circle, the pillars of support that form the sacred spaces within you? how do you define the boundaries of need while swimming diligently towards the lure of an ever-shifting desire? do you remember the walk we once took, meandering along the coastal…