Rebelle Society

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friend

poetry

Re-Wild. {poetry}

Jump again from moving buses; dive again to swirling depths rise again from your own ashes; die again a hundred deaths. For the wildness inside you will never perish; I only tire, then surge afresh.

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world

The Day I Befriended My Voice.

As a therapist, I understand we play old patterns in our lives, but it is not on purpose, and we need to be careful when we discuss such situations placing too much responsibility on the victimized person rather than the ones who perpetrated the abuse.

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you & me

I Am Not For Sale.

Add water, instant wife won’t work this time. Been there, done that. Money doesn’t create comfort, connection does. Someone else’s financial security is not the stability I want. I stand on my own two feet. I march to my own drumbeat. I want a lover and a friend, not something that’s pretend.  ...

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you & me

Letting Go Of More Pain Than You Have To Gain.

Even if our friendships, however deep and profound we may perceive them to be, however much care, love, and nurturing we may have poured into them along the way, may not be the same as they once were in their glory days, it does not necessarily mean that the times shared in the past were for naught.

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world

How To Find Grace Through The Grieving Of Death.

“Help,” I thought, looking around to others, “I need a tourniquet. Can’t you see my friend is dying?” But as I search the familiar faces around me, I realize they are all bleeding out in their grief. There isn’t enough triage in the world to save you from this pain.

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