A journal entry… …. It’s the way your words are flat now and I am left to fill in the blanks. And how unfortunately my head and heart will fight over what that silence means. When really all the feeling of uncertainty should deliver is that there is nothing more for me.. I should know…

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some will show youtheir skinand that’s okwe all have a role to playbut I want to pry myself openexposingnot just my soulbut a mirror thereso that you maysee your own the blood& the bones

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I am slowly pulling away… the sound of fabric tearinga body sliding across a bench seata boat leaving shore can you feel it? the blood& the bones

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far too manyspeak aboutwhiskey they have neverpoured and bloodthey have nevereven tasted the blood& the bones

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I picked out black dresses standing in my closet, shuffling the hangers back and forth trying to find the best one. I picked out black dresses to wear for my mother who’s heart has not stopped beating but they said that it could. I picked out black dresses and I wondered if the doctor knew…

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I was asked to write a bio for a reading. I wanted to keep it simple and open. Here’s what I came up with.. I write for every woman who ever loved a warrior and tell the stories of men who couldn’t find the words. LLthe blood& the bones

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What is it your heart, your cock, or your ego that wanted me? That’s the problem with takers… You never know what their intentions are. the blood & the bones

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We weren’t supposed to meet or to feel the electricity. It wasn’t supposed to happen. But fate doesn’t give a fuck about roadblocks. I will say that my decision making was blurred by trauma and I was searching and clinging to anything that wasn’t what was going on around me. He wasn’t looking for it…

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just know thatI could haveand I would haveif you had let me the blood& the bones

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• primal • piningfor youto give into the needto split me opentasting insidedevouringdipping into my poolsand drinking from meas I feed from your fountainsand the moonwatchesin envy the blood& the bones

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