together again
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Posted:Nov 9, 2021 2:44 pm
Last Updated:Nov 11, 2021 7:02 am
8444 Views
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the terrifying silence crashes around I'm afraid I will be broken into pieces that can't be put back together again
I've done this before pieced myself together again but I get so tired of the fear that the breaking will never end
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4
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Why there are cicadas - a tinnitus story
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Posted:Nov 7, 2021 6:22 am
Last Updated:Nov 8, 2021 12:12 pm
6628 Views
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Why there are cicadas - a tinnitus story written November 1st, 2021
One day there was a small who woke up in the night to the sound of cicadas. Her grown-up checks in on her. The small doesn't talk very much. She looks at the grown and rubs her ears.
Her grown-up asks, "Does the noise bother you?" The small nods yes. The small 's eyes ask... Why is it there? What does it mean? Why does it never stop?
Her grown-up smiles and tells her... Those are cicadas dear one they knew that sometimes you were lonely and afraid so they came hundreds of them thousands of them to keep you company so you would never be alone.
If you wake and wonder if you are safe just listen for the cicadas. I know they are loud sometimes they just want to be sure you know they are there so relax in the sound float in it knowing you are not alone and go back to sleep dear one.
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8
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Breathing space - poem and collage
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Posted:Nov 4, 2021 12:39 pm
Last Updated:Nov 7, 2021 6:02 am
8580 Views
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Breathing space written November 3rd, 2021
Space stretches into the distance I send my breath towards you
soft like a breeze tickling your hair embracing you pooling around you making this space
for you to be to rest to feel peace a breathing space.
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8
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I am not an apology
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Posted:Nov 1, 2021 7:32 am
Last Updated:Nov 5, 2021 10:28 am
7458 Views
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I am not an apology started June 9th, 2021
I wanted this poem to be a song declaring that I am not an apology but I am not there yet
I feel like something born then broken spending my life apologizing for not being able to fix myself for not being what people wanted
Trying to stave off danger and hurt I hurl apologies at the world and the people in it. I am sorry for being me. . . . One day I want to stand here in all my broken glory for the world to see and not apologize.
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6
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My own four experiences with holes
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Posted:Oct 6, 2021 9:16 am
Last Updated:Oct 7, 2021 12:37 pm
8012 Views
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I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. —Portia Nelson, "Autobiography in Five Short Chapters"
My own four experiences with holes written October 5th, 2021
1. I walk down a road I fall into a hole This happens a few times I stop walking down roads.
2. I get tired of being stuck in one place I decide to try again. I walk down a road A different road than before I know holes can happen I keep my eyes on my feet Just in case.
3. I walk down roads I carefully keep a list of roads with holes It is always in my mind Is this a safe road? Will it be safe today?
4. I walk down a road with a friend I forget to check if it's a safe road We are talking and laughing Then I realize This is that very first road the one with that big hole.
Did we not notice and walk around it? Did we float over it? Is the hole gone? Will it come back?
So many questions. All I really know is I am grateful for the moments of not worrying about holes while laughing with a friend.
------ My thoughts about the poem: The outline of the original poem was in the back of my mind. All I remembered was the holes and eventually going around them. I wrote mine and then read the original. The original is pretty wonderful. I love analogies and this one just suited me for some of my experiences with ptsd triggers.
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6
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my body
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Posted:Sep 24, 2021 2:25 pm
Last Updated:Oct 4, 2021 6:25 pm
8248 Views
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my body written September 24th, 2021
My body has been the enemy for too long now I want to touch to feel to be friends with it.
I take off my dress and lay back on the bed my hands touching my belly my breasts my skin.
My body is an expert at not feeling but today I feel. I tell myself over and over it is safe this is safe you are safe.
I breath and relax pulling my knees up letting my legs fall open my hips relaxing into the bed just laying with my hands on my breasts feeling the air from the ceiling fan move over my pussy safe in my body.
My fingers slowly explore the outer lips the sparse hair the fleshy lips. My hand cups my pussy my lips my clit.
I lay there feeling my hand on my pussy. I say to myself it is enough and it is.
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5
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good girl - first time masturbating
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Posted:Sep 24, 2021 2:20 pm
Last Updated:Oct 8, 2021 3:13 pm
8257 Views
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good girl - first time masturbating written during September 19th, 2021
I spread my legs for them, I feel shy, not used this. They sit quietly, not moving, and say, "Good girl."
I melt and have a physical response to those words. They smile at me, and wait.
I take a deep breath and lower my hand to my pussy. My fingers touch the lips, and again, they say, "Good girl."
I start to move my fingers, over my clit and lips, feeling the softness of the skin, the texture. Feeling the fine hair. I forget to watch them, as I get lost in my own pussy, until I hear them whisper, "Good girl."
Those words make my fingers press hard against my clit and they say, "Good girl, it is enough."
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5
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This body which is mine
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Posted:Sep 14, 2021 3:55 pm
Last Updated:Sep 15, 2021 12:00 pm
8725 Views
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In the cave of the ear, the bones, like stars at the solstice, sit upright and still, listening in on the air as the muscle and blood listen in on the skeleton. —Robert Bringhurst, "The Song of Ptahhotep," Gift of Tongues
This body which is mine written June 1st, 2021
For too long my body has listened for phantom danger coming my way my body tensed waiting.
Now I am training myself to listen to the sound of my solid solitary bones the soft drumming of my blood rushing and cresting in the shores of my body.
I listen as my muscles stretch and contract moving lungs and limbs part of the symphony coordinated by my brain.
I listen to my body and learn to hear the beauty the coordinated song of muscle and blood bones and brain wrapped in my soft skin the miracle of this body which is mine.
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6
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floating and fleeing
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Posted:Sep 11, 2021 5:45 am
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2021 12:07 pm
8211 Views
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floating and fleeing written August 13th, 2021
floating and fleeing I spin through the air my hair flying out my head thrown back
spinning and teasing my throat exposed the graze of your teeth catch me if you can
playing and following far away from the world until your hands anchor me here and now
touching and caressing each other.
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4
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Of me—Being
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Posted:Sep 10, 2021 11:21 am
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2021 12:07 pm
9081 Views
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Of me—Being written August th, 2021
Usually I have no time or place floating in the ether until I whisper my name in your ear.
For a brief moment I am here and now known anchored to this time and place with you.
In the index of my life this moment will be listed as one of the rare occurrences of me— Being.
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5
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My body mine
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Posted:Sep 9, 2021 8:55 am
Last Updated:Sep 10, 2021 11:19 am
8246 Views
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My body mine written August th, 2021
I stand in the shower feeling my hands on my body the water on my hands me in my body mine
my mind flies away as it is so practiced in doing 1 time, 2 times, 26 times I gently return
my mind back to my body my body back to my hands my hands back to the water my presence back into my body
27 times and 28 times until one day however many times it takes 4 times or 1,238 times
I can stay here with this body that is my body mine.
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5
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Touch me like the sun
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Posted:Sep 7, 2021 7:57 am
Last Updated:Sep 11, 2021 1:03 pm
8453 Views
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Only the sun will touch me. -Amar El-Mohtar, "Zambian Honey", The Honey Month
Touch me like the sun written August 21st, 2021
I dream of others touching my skin with hands gentle and hungry with tongues wet and insistent worshiping my breasts reaching inside of me until I am spread open aching and joined with them.
Touch me like the sun is now.
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5
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The world thrusts itself inside
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Posted:Aug 13, 2021 6:41 am
Last Updated:Sep 8, 2021 10:16 am
9574 Views
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I felt pain like an assault, The old pain again When the world thrusts itself inside, when we have take in the outside —May Sarton, "Night Watch," Collected Poems
The world thrusts itself inside written June 26th, 2021
The world rages through me I wrap my arms around cradling this body amongst the flowers torn, leaves shredded, plants uprooted
until the fury passes peace descends on the broken some breath and start to mend others their decay feeds the new.
The world thrusts itself inside each of us tearing and stretching throw your head back and rage
with the pain and agony of growth made possible by the world tearing open body, heart, and mind.
I never grow used to this brutal process, I dip my fingers into the holes made in our heart.
The world has its way with us this relentless thrusting climax until we spill out over everything this our mark on the world.
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5
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