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.
Ours was the home friends gravitated to. Where the door was always open and some homemade delicious meal to feed an army was baking in the oven. It was a place in which it was impossible not to feel a heart full of love and peace.
Don’t ask me about my sun, my moon, my stars; Don’t think they will teach you my triumphs and scars. The truth you are seeking won’t come in a word. The secrets I’m keeping will speak when I want them heard. Don’t ask me my sign -- no, don’t ask me that yet.
A deeper cut reveals a culture of psychopathy: a party sickened by its hatred, misogyny and xenophobia; grown too accustomed to deceit; blaming others for its missteps; compromised by a paralysis of ideas; resorting to character assassination and abject humiliation of perceived enemies; ...