it is far easier to write poetry when you are in
love.
Surely, there is some brain chemistry that connects
the part of you that loves
to the part that writes poetry.
Or perhaps it is the same part.
Either way.
I seem to have exhausted mine.
And the words, they do not come as easily as they once did.
And the feelings, well, I can no longer tell them apart.
My happy is so close to my sad when they exist just under to the surface.
And it all just feels like a headache.
AMV
I am feeling taken over by anxiety. My body is a land that is being colonized, ravaged by something outside myself. Something unwelcome. Something devastating. Something utterly unrelenting, undiscern
1. The air is thin now. I breathe deeper and fuller. Inhale; taste the wind. 2. Body. Overwhelmed. Salty tears, mistaken for Sadness. Grief. Relief. 3. In small ways, create a home, a life in moments.
a collection of affirmations to say and know: I am resilient. I listen to and trust my own desires. I am my own. I do not apologize for who I am. I am brave and vulnerable. There are things only I can
