a diary of words, paper and other ephemeral things
I know you’re upset
But here
I carved a space
In my heart
Meet me there
We’ll have tea
Not too strong
So we can still
go to bed early
We’ll talk about the
meaning of
Our matching fingerprints
You scribble tears on your face
With blue crayon
They fall, rain from your cheeks
Splash into your cup
Allow me to drink it for you
It’s been long enough
You don’t have to do this alone
Episode five of the podcast Living Practice is live 💕 catch it here or find it on your favorite podcast platform.
tended the garden of this mind
brains weren’t extraordinary
I cling to the title:
gifted
press the label onto my shirt
hand lingers above my breast
delusion
the tag tied round my toe in the morgue
it’s all I ever was…until, you know
I wasn‘t
plummeting grades, marks don’t matter
blackout nights, herded by strangers
bra stuffed with money
and tear-stained fights
this body became
the sacrifice;
payment on the altar of
expectation
color me surprised
you roll your eyes
not impressed
tell me this
is it enough yet?
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The Tarot Diaries, my 78-week project has had me delving deeper than I anticipated, much faster than expected. In today’s post I share about self-identity, the myth of Narcissus, the cloudy depths of the subconscious, dealing with the throes of sobriety and memory loss. Trigger warnings are listed at the beginning of the essay. It’s a vulnerable one folks.
A vulnerable representation of me, a ADHD mom, trying really hard to do soccer mom things because my kids need to run.
freehand crochet sweater done, using lots of yarn from the first fiber festival I went to earlier this year 💚 my creativity takes many forms. 🦋
Starmoth Press 