I feel the warmth of the sun through the windows on my skin before the light penetrates the thick curtains of my eyelids. Heavy with sleep, my eyelids flutter, my eyes focus on the source of this warmth and then just as quickly close, and I’m still not sure whether I’m awake yet or asleep. ...
Many lost soul-pieces await restlessly to be acknowledged...just as the ruins of wrecked ships from long ago are waiting for the next storm to uncover them.
When we feel open to talk about it… when we let the pain breathe… when we don’t feel judged and ostracized… that’s when things get a little easier.