I get lost sometimes in my love for you– it’s good to find my way out.
I get lost sometimes in my love for you– it’s good to find my way out.
every moment I spend in your presence, makes me more capable.
the stories i tell myself– though elegantly crafted, are not true.
even the shadow of your love is the brightest place I’ve ever been.
acknowledge what it is that is truly sacred in a ritual.
sometimes myself i find, playing a waiting game, dictated by you.
insecurities are rooted in a place that rarely sees the light.
I never read the rules for mothering it seems I was absent that day– perhaps all of us were. Carrying around the textbook burden of guilt, the weight of which mocks our shortcomings and reveals the all-too constant truth that we’re just winging it. Each new day, another brave face– scooping up the pieces …
the truest romance born of spit and grass stains mirrored feet and an ease that exudes timelessness and whispers of the infinite. languid days of smiles and symmetry harmonious melody grounded in familiarity– like the comfort of an old pair of jeans, softened and worn in the perfect places– a childhood photo, fuzzy at the …
sometimes i think it might be easier if you used a few more words.
the edges of myself 