the edges of myself

words, words, words

Yesterday morning I had a hard time pulling myself out of bed. Harder than most Tuesday mornings. I felt heavy. My legs seemed to teeter a bit underneath me as I moved through my early Tuesday morning motions– trying to wake my sleeping beast. Tuesday and Thursday mornings are a unique experience for me. I …

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For several years now– too many to count, although it wouldn’t be hard to do, I’ve been silently beating up on myself for not writing. I’ve moved forward in fits and spurts, but they have mostly gone unacknowledged by myself– and somehow I have managed to continue to give myself the consistent message: YOU ARE …

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I have a confession to make. I haven’t been consciously withholding this information– but just recently uncovered it somewhere in the depths of my cells. I have spent years being ANGRY. Horribly, Defiantly, ANGRY. At myself. What I have realized is this anger (that I have managed bury to the depths of my being) has been …

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if i could capture my moments with you in words– they would sing and sigh and breathe as no words have ever dared.   if i could call upon all songbirds to lift their voices in harmony and encapsulate the elation and joy flying through my heart, i would.   if i could wrap my …

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I’ve closed my heart before locked it tightly– buried the key beneath layers of shoulds and coulds and woulds   I’ve watched myself walk away treading carefully, moving backwards longing for an explanation some semblance of the truth   I’ve understood the sting of rejection– internalized its pointy edges, embracing their lessons along with the …

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i love it when you call me baby   it breaks my heart wide open and spills it on the ground and wraps me up in an understanding that needs nothing more than your silent smile and gentle, responsive hands   i love it when behind your eyes i see the sparkle of your boy– …

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