Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
I think my love language is all of you it does not even exist to write it down. I do not know how I function with my guts pulled apart by life. People leave, then they come back changed, a new unsuspecting death surrounding them. They introduce their partners as Read more
I couldn’t sleep anyway
There was nothing else to do with my rage and sorrow
no one believed me – everyone hid in the shadows of shame
I was a broken exile machine piled
exiled in the house I grew up in
so I ran
i know, at least, that she was ripe
full of not a hardened pit like me
for so long
but hopes that began and ended
seven times over
My mom never knew she had actually prepared me the best way possible. She died thinking she had failed as a parent who should have protected her daughter. Because of her, I guarded myself and my daughters from a future of abuse, failure, and lost dreams. As a single mom, I didn’t have much to give my girls, but I gave them the confidence to become strong, determined women who have the courage to leave pies on the sidewalk when that’s the only option.
The suicide rate is up 63% for women aged 45-65 and up 200% for girls aged 10-14. A worrying statistic but for some reason, this statistic and the damage privilege bias is causing to vulnerable women and girls is often ignored.
The ruthless cold shakes my being,
flooding me with memories,
reminding me of the days I walked naked,
freezing to death by my consuming pain.
Home is where the heart lives and breezes through you.
By the way, in case you didn’t know, one can live with half a heart, half a soul. Yes, the blood still flows thru veins, the legs still move, the pulse still pulses.
Isn’t that simply astounding?