day 23

monday march the relay race of the single mom. the week starts off with a bang! 1.23.17

day 22

be like the sand the lonely grain stuck in the bed of a luxurious oyster; the steady irritant which will then transform. be a caterpillar wanting more allowing time and discomfort to make anew. be the river which flows through the rocks carving its path wherever it goes. be all you can…

we march (day 21)

today we march with our daughters and sisters, our mothers and friends. we march with men we love or because of men we do not. today we rise up and unite, tomorrow we must remember to act. 1.21.17

day 20

my mind is full of willowwacks where fairies play and flowers grow it’s where i go when all is not as it seems to find comfort in the darkened woods the sturdy trees and the cracks of sun pushing through the leaves 1.20.17

day 19

i continue to… drive for nothing wait for no one wast my time the road continues with its twists and turns 1.19.17

day 18

sliding doors to empty rooms double mirrors to trick the view tremors of the yet to be i plant my roots and grow above to survey the scene 1.18.17

day 17

wake in the dark then shock of light feel translucent paper thin coffee brews to fortify muscles move without force eyes remain open on their own thus, i embark 1.17.17

day 16

punchy from restless sleep to punching the water today i surpass, learn to be, stronger than i thought i was but tonight, i sleep deep 1.16.17

day 15

sleep deprived i push through until the avalanche of tired then, i succumb 1.15.17

day 14

interact, interface we seek contact from a distance we call for a voice that warms we joke for the laugh that joins we sigh for our mutual discontent 1.14.17

day 13

sleep fled furtively to remain in hiding until the laziness of the weekend to come i lay awake with the desire to be lulled back by the womb-like warmth and the deep black then i realized the day had already summoned with unquestioning authority, to arise. 1.13.17

day 12

full moon cycle ends i must wait a little more for the breath of spring the flush of love the something new 1.12.17

fear (day 11)

fear of connection small talk light flirt not real so i push for the visceral the real and they all run away… 1.11.17

day 10

sleep trapped me on this first day of school drugged by dreams and covers warm i lay past the nudge of my morning alarm 1.10.17

colorful (day 9)

can’t explain i smile at the coming day i know why but choose not to say from reaching the edge so many times covering up for all of their crimes sense of self is long lost on them now while i stride into technicolor wow 1.9.17

day 8

as the invitations dwindled i stayed in from the cold i lit a fire and watched until it burned to ash and pondered the sparks that may come to pass. 1.8.17