Does the sun really kiss you on the cheek when it leaves, or does it slap you on the face for wasting it? Is it really us disappointing the world, or is the world disappointing us?
We are intense in everything that we do, this includes brooding. We will scare you and you will not understand where we’ve disappeared to, what deep chasm within ourselves we’ve slipped into to find solitude and room to expand; where we find the silence to think. Love us there, in that dark ...
As her friend, you must offer your patience. As a lover, you must offer your heart and surrender to hers. As her parent, you must grow accepting of how she sets herself apart from the original tribe who created her.
This is for the rejected heart, the heart that aches with simultaneous anger and sadness, the heart that slows to the breath of aloneness and change, the heart of impermanence. The unrequited heart. The heart that wants and yearns and breaks.
I am splayed out in front of you. I am all bare, blinking flesh and beat red limbs and matching moles on my inner thighs and you cant help but already hate the next man who gets to fall asleep here, with me. You can’t help but want to see the insides of his skull.
Tainted by my own mess, I had just cause to feel numb, unsure and insolent toward life, and I kept trying to bleed a bit more into a vial that couldn’t be filled. It soon became evident that clinging to resentment was too hard, and my results were more than redundant, cold and tiresome.
Sure I can save myself and heal the wounds, but there will always be a gap. There will always be space for someone to come in and replace. And that’s what I miss. Someone to keep that space warm and to remind me that I am not alone. I miss the fullness and the capacity that there is someone in ...
I think that to take that final step -- to surf the currents with confidence -- I need a true keeper of my heart. Someone who will hold it with an equal combination of gentleness and strength while I drift, float, and wander. I think that is what is missing.
Recently my husband re-connected with one of the loves of his life. He sat on the phone with her after years of forced silence, laughed, told her about his life. He glowed with a type of glow that I know only this woman can unleash. I never felt more happy for him. This is what a sacred love ...
An empowered woman acknowledges that her body is her own. No government or social and cultural conditioning could ever tamper down her sexual appetite. No matter what shape or size her body, she flaunts and peacocks her physical form -- finding pride in the skin she is in. She not only ...