Uniquely, You

If you can live with gum on your shoe, sweat on your brow and frown lines quivering from your lip, well then I can too. You are a cautionary tale of the worst and best kind of chaos, tortured buried secrets and lies. Brush off the shit and the stink, unmasking truth. Embrace the planetary spins and every so often celebrate silver linings. Be better than me, bigger, more evolved.

Rebel Rouser

When they zapped my brain, I did not recognize the nurse who had been there all along. I recalled my mother’s face, worry lines and all. Too familiar. I forget sometimes with all these cells coarsing through veins, tripping up emotions that things came easier once. Life was uncomplicated, and I took it for granted. It was the little moments I shrugged off, the nothing less than important. Vital lessons

Words

Words I couldn’t imagine a life without words to give us meaning, purpose and stability on a planet that is four billion years old. Words tell us that earth is the only planet whose English name derives from Old English and Germanic. Words. Use your words, use your voice, and write it down. Write out most intimate dreams, hopes, and desires. We are merely spectators allowed the shortest visit, to

Petals of Passion

I had the craziest dream. Sweet Gardenia blossoms grew immense enveloping firestorms and chaos, masquerading all traces of ash and burn. The intoxicating scent of sweet perfume permeated the clean air, creating nursery rows of safety bubble greenhouses. A young girl’s innocence remained pure and virtuous. Flowering freedom rained dewdrops of kindness. There were no guns, no mass graves, no starvation, no rape, no death. No dead children. No hate.

Pure Heart

Sometimes I think I should just quit. The world is too ugly, too sad, too dangerous. You know like most creatives, empaths, humans we question ourselves, we overthink incessantly, coming up with a gazillion reasons why. Why not stop. And, why not? You know what, fuck it. I’m not finished, your story is not finished. Our story. We’re in this chaos of crazy together. Stuck together. What is this one

If I Could

I cannot walk through the grief for you. I would if I could. I cannot cry the tears that pour like a fountain. I would if I could. I cannot understand the pain, the weight, the fear and the messy emotions that consume your broken heart. Grief is yours, and only yours. The love never dies, no one can take that from you. Loss. I would carry that burden, I

Heartbeat Sweet

Precious heart you don’t fool me Not everyone is good, not everyone is kind Precious heart do not worry your sad little boombox beats Or tragic flatlines It’s a half hearted day like all others For better or worse I’m tired and my head hurts I’m not a good person some of the time I’m blood sour and thick Precious heart, you’re just a pump You feel me The most

Awake

Please do not underestimate the fragile girl who has been broken. The grown woman inside has climbed the barbed wire, jagged and cut, bleeding deeply shrugging off the scars. She is woke and not immune to the swirling, selfish world around her. Simply living the beautiful and worst kind of misery humanity throws at her. The best soft shoe tap she can muster. The soul dances firelight loud and quiet,