I am certain that the kind of love that I want, wants me. The kind of love that stays knows I will write poetry about my past pain but that is not their reference book on how to love me better.
maybe you don’t call it depression maybe you don’t know its symptoms— maybe you blame the devil. it must be the devil, or the boy that left. … Continue reading I Tried Calling it Depression.
A journey through the toughest challenge of my life.
Depression & Anxiety Rehabilitation Guide
a collective blog by indigenous women photographers
Just another WordPress.com site
THIS MACHINE MOCKS FASCISTS
Online Shopping Made Easy
art. popular since 10,000 BC
Join in my transformation
With(out) Predicates
I cried soul deep, looked into the mirror with eyes that had pretense peeled away from them; I saw myself. I saw myself in the purest form I could and I loved me. I wanted to be me. So, let me journey to a place of utmost and complete authenticity through vulnerability. I write conversations in my heart, debates in my mind and noises in my soul. Bear with me while I bear myself naked before you.
...in #WordNSound we trust...
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
"Diving into a writers soul is discovering the broken treasure and beautiful mysteries that make you gasp for air."
