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She Wishes for Things. {poetry}

And she wishes to mother her babies again, so delicious they were, and their scent, the way they smelled, like innocence, with her cheek up against, their silky, smooth cheeks so to breathe them in, to feel a tiny, flailing fist against her skin, and little eyes looking up, to feel them ...

wellness

The Other Side of Her Illness.

What they didn't tell her about the other side is that upon arrival, the journey isn't over. It's not the end of the road, and it's not somewhere over the rainbow. Every day she climbs a mountain of thoughts. And she has to descend, wading through them again, before the sun goes down so she can ...

wisdom

What A Number Is Not.

And your number, the one that magically and precisely appears, after just a few short seconds -- those little, red digits dutifully lined up in that small, dark window when you begrudgingly step on that high-tech scale you paid an arm and a leg for -- is not your life story.

smile

I Am Happily Imperfect.

And then, when I finish my lists and lists of tasks, I roll a big, fat doobie and smoke it by myself while I pretend to be the happiest person alive! Okay, I'm kidding, of course. I certainly don't do any of those things, but guess what? I'm still really happy. Go figure. I'm happily imperfect.

troublemakers

You Can Almost Always Right A Wrong.

I’m fairly sure that this guy had a lot of apologies to deliver to a whole list of people who were obviously way more important than me. His apology tour was in full swing, but I had a lot of respect for him that night because he remembered being a jerk to me, and he swallowed his pride in ...

poetry

So Little She Was. {poetry}

... instead of speaking her truth she stuffed it back down deep down inside she couldn't bear it knowing they were wrong about her about who she really was...

smile

Happy Is The New Black.

You would think that after successfully losing the equivalent of two full kegs of beer, and running like 'Forrest Gump' for the past year and a half, a lady might feel better about the possibility of new bathing suit choices, and earnestly hope to don something colorful, sporty, and ...

smile

The List-Making Gene: It’s In My Blood.

I realize that by writing this little piece, I am shedding light on what is clearly a bit of my OCD behavior, but I don’t care. The truth is, my list-making habit is a bit of an illness, but it’s okay, and I’m okay with it because it helps me function. It’s just who I am, and I know many, many ...

wellness

How Do You Measure The Weight Of A Body?

You won’t know how to quantify, justify, dignify my body, because it exists inside memory. And how can you measure memory? My body is a rocky pile of loose and slippery hope, a sky-scraping wall of shame, a holy cathedral for worship, and a soothing haven for rest. Tell me, how will you measure ...

you & me

A Mother’s Heart. {poetry}

It is my hope that my daughter and I will continue to live in the present and choose love over resentment. This poem, Mother’s Heart, was written for my daughter, whom I love with every drop of my being.

kimberly valzania

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