How we heal

Raw and jagged lines

The truth is out in the open

For all to see who care to

Messy, uncurated, pain and suffering

I don’t pretend anything

My insides are wrecked by experiences gone

Worn out, all that’s left is rest

Stillness, quiet and letting time do its healing

Slowly and then quickly something new sprouts

In it, new hope. 

Time to rally and push through

Building momentum 

I’m unchained from my past.

I read The Anthologist and now I dabble in poetry. I’m having fun with it more than anything. I want to be like Joan Didion and stay up all hours writing, when the world is still. I can’t though, morning comes too quickly and the littles have so much energy- I can barely keep up. Poetry works for mom-life. I ask my boys to give me a word, and then I write from there. I write and then read it to my four-year-old. He is the best audience. He always tells me what I write is good, and I believe him, because he is paying attention.

As always, thanks for reading! Be well.