“The shelter is where I am when I am with myself.”

I have emptied myself of a heavy burden today lifted it out of my body and placed it down its not the end but it’s a beginning.

My heart is my muse my blood is my ink my pain is my pen my words are my healing.

Why do I push up against the ones who will not have me like a wave pushing its way on the sand when my people are in the ocean and we naturally flow to protect each other.

Authenticity feels like the glue that has put me back together I feel whole and aligned in every word.

Release the person’s place thought-feeling.

I will always meet you with kindness.

I still have hope that one day someone will love all of me – from the hallelujahs right down to the hallows.

You took my heart, hope, love, and trust when you left but you gave me good poetry.

You are whole and complete all on your own everything you need is within you peel away the layers come home.

My eyes, finally conscious of the truth that is, now see unclouded.

Why do I paint a happy face every single holiday when they are a stinging reminder of what and who is absent.

Listen to the heart to its beat in time words are no match for what is spoken in the heart’s rhyme.

Friendships exist in the fluctuations between acceptance and rejection.

I want to be loved so I try to be you then I realize what I see in you is in the mirror looking back at me.

All this time I knew I needed some really good therapy and I found it —in poetry.

I remind myself what I desire in another is myself undiscovered.