Peace Poetry: I Do Not Have to Do Everything My Mind Tells Me To.
I made peace with myself when I asked for help. When I started showing my face in the waiting room even though you expected me not to.
Browsing Tag:
bed
Darling. {poetry}
I swallow the rest of my wine, and slide the lip-stained glass to the bartender
I lean over and touch her arm as my matte black nails drag softly over her skin
She turns her attention away from the poor sap who never stood a chance
As The Blood Dries On Our Birthing Bed: A Rage-Filled Prayer For Imbolc.
On this Imbolc night, the flames of all the Candlemas altars are dim in comparison to the bonfire tearing through my so-tired heart. I pray now not to Mother Brighid but to you, Woman, as you lie breathless beside me in your own recovery. Do not fall asleep.