There is no room for gods for angels and hope for wings of flight and depth of field this defensive arms want to yield and this scarred heart wants to heal
There is no room for imagination under the weight of these books the text fills me up no devils cup no drugs or substances can free my mind the weight of the world is unkind and the sub titles aren’t signed and chaos has died in my mind or it’s been set free I can’t escape I just don’t want to be…
this day weighs the world down as we hold a collective breath, waiting for the future to reveal itself. we pray to every deity, toss every coin, and carry love in our hearts for all who are suffering. we are here to lighten the load in any way possible.
I posted this on my Instagram, but I wanted to post it here as well. I am sending my love to everyone at this time.
We are all mothers As we care for one another while going about business as usual Our greatness in the guidance of the women whose scalloped hands stirrup our feet in the rooms and halls and roads of our lives Who we notice only when we focus our eyes on our own faces, on our own working hands, on our own burdened hearts.
I feel my knees buckle sometimes. And my arms go limp. It's an earth-shattering sadness. I feel it in my bones, In my blood, Like it's part of me. The kind of sad that makes my body fumble from the weight
I gained weight my shoulde(r)s slouch(e)d at the burden I am carrying that'(s) increasing with my age as time piles my waist ex(p)ands fertility is just an adjective with(o)ut a part(n)er sen(sib)ly carry(i)ng (li)fe's weigh(t) (y)ou