I Love You...

Cassie and I met as casual friends, and by casual friends I mean we met specifically to sleep together casually, without attachments.  Because that’s how I do (that’s not really how I do.  I know that now). Everyone who I mentioned this meeting to said the same things – Oh.  That’s going to end horribly. [&hellip


I grew up in a family that wasn’t particularly expressive.  There weren’t that many hugs or deep discussions about our feelings, nor were there moments where we sat and talked about our dreams for the future.  It wasn’t a space where we were encouraged to be creative or whimsical.  My memories of growing up are [&hellip


I’ve developed a process for myself when I’m feeling like life and my mind have lost control.  Where I start is focusing inward – what am I missing or what do I need?  What I do then, is research.  I read books on science and spirituality, philosophy and memoirs.  I write quotes in notebooks and [&hellip


It’s day one of National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo) and I’m trying to use it as a tool to dedicate myself to writing again.  Writing has always been how I express myself, work out the toughness inside of me, settle some confusion and look deeper inside to pull out answers I’m seeking.  I’ve made so [&hellip

You and I

I thought of you tonight for the first time in years, wondering if you’d really been here all along, hidden away until it was safe for you to re-emerge, safe from the doubts of your existence; that the feelings inside of me are a mirage and in a moment you will turn to dust and [&hellip


I’ve often felt like I’m not living up to my potential.  I think I’m supposed to die knowing that the world was given so much of my heart that there is nothing left – the sides scraped clean.  I think my existence in this world, my purpose, is to find the cracks all around and fill them [&hellip

Protect Me From...

For months I was alone in my own darkness.  I had slipped into something so impenetrably dense that I didn’t know I could even move, let alone escape it.  I feared I was irreparably damaged – my heart annihilated and life hopelessly sad.  I would sit alone for hours, in quiet despair, too tired and ashamed to look for [&hellip


Four years ago, life filled itself with silence. In the months before that happened, my life was resplendent with noise.  There were endless words, echoes of laughter, the pulse of music, the gentle breaths of intimacy, the soft sighs and sobs as tears fell, the pointed words of disagreements and the pounding of a heart so [&hellip

Make music of...

The Japanese art of kintsugi is the repair of broken pottery with gold, silver or platinum.  The philosophy behind kintsugi is a reverence for imperfection; embracing the flaws and finding beauty in them as a symbol of resilience. What would happen if we had the capacity to look at ourselves in the same way kintsugi [&hellip


There was a moment, when I saw you, and knew…there was love. It was old and it was precious and pulsing and strong. There was an immediacy in us.  We were fast. A word. A look. A smile.  And then, chest opened wide to show…this…belongs to you.  Do you remember? My body wasn’t yours.  Has never [&hellip