Ink Stained Soul…

Threads that once were so frail, barely hanging on to who I was, have spun into an integrated fabric within my soul. No longer do I walk around without my armor. Golden threads burst to life, reclaiming what I once thought was gone forever. It not only covers me, but something peculiar has occurred – it shines out of me, sending fragments of my aura into the world. Love found me. I just had to remember to gaze into the mirror, to see the girl I had forgotten.

Moments come in sudden waves. Sadness strikes and reminds you of the love you wish you had – arms to hold you, someone there to let you cry and wipe your tears. Not to fix you, just to hear you. That pesky lump in your throat. Fear that you’ll never have all that your heart dreams of. Moments like these come in waves. The feeling of being with someone who doesn’t value it is a slow death that makes crashing waves somewhat bearable.

One day, a heart you’ve given freely will beat to a different rhythm. Your whispers will fall on changed ears, and responses will carry unfamiliar tones. Memories will be the tender threads that bind, and hope, a fragile ember, will flicker in the silence.

What they don’t tell you about having your heart broken is that you must grieve the loss. It’s packing it all up, cleaning, grieving them as if they no longer walk the earth. In truth, they don’t. The version of them you loved so much is gone. You’ll see someone who looks exactly like them, sounds like them, acts like them, but it isn’t your them. They died. And so, grief can’t be skipped, and it’s brutal, but that means you loved.

Silence once made my soul want to crawl out of my skin. Being alone was the most terrifying thing for someone with deeply ingrained abandonment issues. Doing anything for myself was such a foreign concept for me to understand. The girl who had to prove her worth even to herself has faded away. I’m not quite sure when she vanished, but the woman I see in the mirror tonight isn’t her anymore. I’m spending days with just myself at a time, enjoying life and getting lost in my own presence. The value I’ve found in myself demands my all now.

Submerge me in your depths
Drown me in desire
Your breath on my skin, a whisper
Moans echoing, space filled
Release, then fill, devour, repeat
Erase all else, leave only you

You lay me down as if you are in the presence of something precious. You trace my flesh. Slowly, tantalizingly so. Kissing the trails your hands take. I gasp. My breath hitching in my throat as my back arches. Prey. Your prey. Waiting to be fully devoured. Every movement meticulously sending me into a euphoric spiral. More, my silent  plea. You give more until all that’s left is my deliciously wrecked body for you to hold.

Yearning and ache settle in for the night. Wrapping their tentacles around me like a cool September night air. You come to take your place, not allowing me to forget to whom I belong. Tonight I want to drift without the aching absence of your ghost.

The time often comes when someone withdraws into silence. Don’t let a ghost haunt you; instead, transmute it. Allow this sacred time to become a space where you romanticize your life. Take a long, indulgent shower and lotion your body like a temple, savoring the softness and smoothness. Let your playlist become the arms that wrap around you. Sit with yourself in front of the mirror and look into your own eyes, taking care to comb your hair. Light your candles, spray your favorite scent, and become creatively obsessed with exploring yourself. Write, draw, paint, and move your body like a goddess to the music. Be so obsessed with your most precious things—time and presence—that silence only silences them.

Wholeness is a myth I’ve never known. My scars aren’t whispers of inconvenience; they’re battle cries of survival. Trauma’s brutal brushstrokes painted my soul with darkness, yet I found colors in the shadows. I rose, again and again, like a phoenix forged from fragments. My cracks aren’t flaws; they’re golden seams of strength, woven into the fabric of my being. I’ll never be whole, but I’m a masterpiece of resilience, delicately precious and rare.