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penetrate me with your turgid madness
Robins wrench worms from the softening earth, trilling songbirds pour their song into the wide sky, Narcissus flirt with vibrant skirts and a thousand shades of green dance in ardent winds. Oh Spring! Penetrate me with your turgid madness! I surrender.
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- healing | love | photography | poetry | self-excavation | truth
still waitin' [i wish on every star above]
I suppose if my Dad loved me– if he showed he cared, I would have believed I was lovable. But he didn’t and I didn’t. And I tried to fill up that hole– spackle spackle pound pound hammer hammer. But it didn’t work. So today, I’m trying to find ways to love myself. I’m starting…
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Reclaiming
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kismet [or the lusciousness of timeless momentary lingering]
a wound begging to be touched
and healedShare this:
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art | creativity | healing | inspiration | photography | self-excavation | the delicious now | unbridled expressioni make pretty messes
All of the paradox and contradictions. I always wished I could make pretty things. I wish I was a pretty thing. But what’s true is I am messy and complicated. I make more messes. I make pretty messes. I’ve been doing some inner calibration lately and ran across this journal entry from earlier this year. …
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moments we never forget
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