I dwell. I wonder. I delight. I break. I bleed. I marvel. I heal. I grow. I let life live me. I (try to) make sense of it all. & then I write.
Welcome to Heart Talk, a series of personal stories from the most tender of spaces.
Find the last of its kind here:
I wish you would’ve taken me with you.
I can tell that I am teaming, bursting and about to explode in poetry (I just need the time and space).
I’m still my favorite level of human.
spacey spacey spacey.
haven’t had the first of summer cherries yet.
tell me something sweet.
no please really.
you’ll leave - they always do.
how come when my eyes pickle with tears, it’s only in sadness although you gave me nothing but happiness? (doesn’t feel honorable or correct for all we were).