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I had this dream last night. It is still with me. I dreamt a child I had known died. I passed it to my mother…my mother who died four years ago. She held it close for a moment and said “this child is not gone.” As she passed her back to me, I wrapped my
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It wasn’t ever really about love with you Insteadit wasneedhungerurges It was jumping off the edgeit was licking a woundand soothing the bloodlust inside both of usit was quieting a bellowing beastno one else could see I have kept this space empty that may always be yours Who else could do what we did? And
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I did not mean for “maybe in my next life” to become my mantra but here I am going against the very religion of my upbringing and praying reincarnation exists as if pretending this is enough for now will soften the sharp pang of that hunger after each disappointment quietly quitting the hunt for the
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look at the violence I have done to my own starving heart just to feel something I could make believe is love let that be enough to prove that I should never be trusted with someone else’s even so he said he knew that quietly beneath the cage of my ribs the words can still
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There is somethingsomething beautifulwretchedand almost unfathomablein realizing that eventuallywe become a little bitof every person we’ve ever loved the blood& the bones |a human puzzleborn of painthe passing of timeand wisdom| ©️thebloodandthebones
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Grief is the deepest kind of sadnessIt is reaching out to find nothingIt is talking to the skyand hoping to find you in the starsIt is looking for a butterfly when I am missing youor a cardinal swooping low across my pathGrief is regret and doubt and second guessingIt is the closets full of clothes
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you may deny it to anyone above all to self we know that pretending is indeed the most elemental form of survival but I know that I was made from the ivory bone God stole to give mercy to the lonely I have lived in the space between your ribs so you cannot purge yourself
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it’s the way you reach for me each timeas if you’d never done that beforenever closed the space between you and anyone elsedesperate to touch, to be undivided, to be the closest that shows me what it’s like to feeluntarnished, unparalleledvibrant an open palmwhere only clenched fists have beensometimes, it makes this chapter more bearablethan
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I had hoped the band would remove the shame but the weight of want lifts only when it is sated I can’t say I need more what would become of the life we’ve built If I admitted my fire is only embers when I was sure I had bargained for a blaze the blood &
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So much of my writing is a work in progress that I wonder if it was better or more complete in another lifetime like I think I must’ve been In another lifetime, I know that I am or was beautiful I am exceptional in so many ways A better mother, writer, lover, friend A better
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The Blood & The Bones 