It isn’t the quill that ruins things. No, the quill simply etched out the truths we don’t want to hear or the desires our heart can’t speak to the world.Writing it out for the mind to process and the heart to feel the weight of its words. Ink on parchment relaying the moments that hold us.
Category: Uncategorized
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Shadows of Strength
Exposed. That is how I feel. When I have to recount my injuries. The scars that are not what define me but are part of who I am. Every hit my body took. There, exposed in contrast and film. Cracks covered by my will to change the cover. And yet, just under the surface, my brokenness is there. Lying in the dark with tears streaming down my face for hours is a different ache than the nights the wounds came. The results similar… Alone to heal with no one keeping me safe. No protection, just my resilience and grief for I walk alone.
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Echoes of Phantom Arms
There’s a quiet sadness when arms that held you once no longer feel the same. When all the offenses to your heart have added up and you miss them because they are not the ones you believe in anymore. Safety and love are no longer wrapped around you. Just this ache that you feel knowing those arms no longer hold what once was sacred. That’s a pain no one feels but you.
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Silent Closures
I close doors so silently it goes unnoticed now… Attached so greatly, fear of being alone made me cling to everything I truly didn’t want. That scared girl in me that could lose everything overnight. The one who always saw shadows of the monsters hidden in plain sight. Never safe. Who would stay, who would leave? Looking for answers only to find more questions. I’m too loud, ask too much. I’m too pretty, so jealousy and insecurity of others left me in the cold. Boy after boy taking, in a never-ending cycle of humiliation rituals. My heart a toy for amusement. I was so loud, clingy to anything because I was terrified. Learning about myself, deciding that alone was better than one more blow that would certainly kill me. My soul wounded, but slowly I healed. Alone, but I was alive. More and more, I became more fascinating. My strength, this grit inside of me. Something I wasn’t certain I had. I became so intrigued by who I was that I fell in love. In quiet moments of spiraling fear, I allowed each wound to have its time. I took back myself. And so I close doors silently now because I no longer fear alone; I have me.
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Ghost in the Silence
The time spent became less and less. Calls shorter. You always in your phone, I had none of your attention. Silence that once felt so loud has become calmer. Nights alone no longer feel like I am suffocating. Those calls rarely about learning anything about my life. Talk surrounding you. I wonder if you notice that I have become aware of the role you have placed me. I answer, because that is who I am. In my time I realized I was only a filler. It was your terms, always. Things I wanted to do I had to alone. You were busy chasing your life. My needs an afterthought unless that moment you thought it would pull me back in. I saw. I knew. I allowed it. It wasn’t self respect I lacked, it was an awareness of letting you find yourself. I knew I would never have your heart the way you had mine. I saw the beauty in being part of your becoming. For a time it held me. After the last of my tears fell I knew you would never see it. You will move forward and my ghost will linger. Then you will see how my heart cracked and how brave I was to love you alone.
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Mirror of Truth
Being in the world when you see so many people not living is complicated. I don’t understand those that just play this game at the lowest level. Lust without true connection is a frequency of self medication to numb the soul. Harming yourself and potentially someone you are running from. Attachment to a fix without seeking the root issue. Making the problem hit you so hard with the regret of who you just gave yourself to. That was me once. I couldn’t run fast enough away from feelings I didn’t want to face. The mirror of my heart. When I decided to heal that part of myself I unbeknownst to me would not be able to go back. I can’t be her anymore. Waking up to the truth of my sabotage led me to understanding. Watching so many stuck in this prison is painful, so I silently pray they find themselves. You magic is there waiting to allow you to be.
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And So it Was…
Missteps and mistakes were made. I must confess we were both at fault. You thought I was too honest and open with my vast array of emotions. That I was too wild, and somehow too easy at the same time. You thought I would always be there, that I would never walk away. I thought I could change your heart, that being myself would be enough because I love her so much. I thought that things that hurt me, your lessons, could free us both. I thought that you would change, not that you would choose not to grow. You thought I would become small and I thought you could build. Our mistakes lead to a death you still probably don’t see and to an awakening I can’t return to slumber from.
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Reflection in the Mirror…My Soul
There are times when I walked past the mirror and have to stop dead in my tracks.
My own aura stuns even myself at times.
Raw, natural and breathtaking.
Smiling as my own eyes look back at me.
Love, is surrounds me.
It is in me.
And I reflected it back.
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The Art of Becoming Untouchable…
The only person that can truly put value on you is yourself. If someone won’t take you to walk on the beach at sunset, go alone. If they don’t enjoy your company, take time to explore who you are without anyone around. If they won’t take time to cherish your body, pour into it yourself so much that the thought of careless hands touching what you built will disgust you. The value is in building yourself so high that only the right hands will ever do. That’s who you are and what you are worth.
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Duality of the Divine: Nurture & Nature
Motherhood is both a season and your core. We nurture and love beyond everything we imagine possible. Our hearts and soul become this endless open vessel of the purest love. Yet, underneath it, we are still wildfire. We’re more than just a mother. That dreamer, fierce woman that craves to be known as she is. Allowing herself to be more than just a mother. To be seen as a sensual piece of artwork all her own. Find a way to unlock that while honoring her nurturing heart, and you have mastered the art of being a divine feminine.
