Unraveling Our Entanglement.
May we unravel ourselves
Threadbare... stripped to the very core of our existence.
May we learn ourselves here, in this blank landscape.
Browsing Tag:
grief
When You Are Friends with Grief. {poetry}
You sit down with grief
You explain you need to understand
You want to be friends
Grief accepts
It explains,
You never will be the same
Grieving Under an Invisibility Cloak.
It seems to me that the cloak of invisibility worn by those invisibly grieving is no less than a superhero’s cape. While tossing and turning on mourning’s high seas, it can take Herculean strength to simply get out of bed some days. It can take immense strength to acknowledge that one must amp ...
Between the Layers: Can Tenderness Exist Inside Violence?
Memories, once snarled, now lay sorted and stacked, their sharp edges softened and beginning to decay. Within these layers, resolutions have emerged.
Climbing Through the Crayon Box, Searching for Saudade.
But she is never coming back, and I fear that if I look in too deep, I will find that only emptiness is left. What crayon is going to color that?
Your Signature Reads like Heartache, but It’s Powerful.
What I want to say is too much, too raw. The thing is, beautiful one, that your signature is one of the more stunning and real and powerful I’ve seen.
Reach Through: on Grief, Love, Loss and Letting Go.
I think often how Life got the seasons all wrong. Brent and I were supposed to bury Mom and Dad. Not the other way around.
Rise up and Know. {poetry}
Marching together, we validated the deeper knowing we’ve all been feeling. Marching together, we collectively agreed, “No, this is not normal.”
Dear Coyote: a Love Letter to All the Wild-Haired Wanderers.
My father was amazing. Sometimes, he took up all of the space in the room with his laughter, his fiery soul, his protection and honor of women. So, when you are lucky enough to have experienced that, it is difficult not to feel anger at the general lapse of chivalry in society.
Don’t Ask Me: For the Childless, Divine Mothers of the World.
I cry into animal fur because of harsh words shared so many times about this topic in the darkest corners of my life, and because of my primal urge to push bone and flesh from the wildest part of my soul into the world. So you don't know the shocking grief of having had moments of deep longing, ...
