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Today I worry about my father and my mother ( Read more... )

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The chubby blonde monkey is off my back and I dance a wild polka.

Today I struggle with what I want vs. who I am.

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I love this poet.

The Flower
Robert Creeley

I think I grow tensions
like flowers
in a wood where
nobody goes.

Each wound is perfect,
encloses itself in a tiny
imperceptible blossom,
making pain.

Pain is a flower like that one,
like this one,
like that one,
like this one.

Yes. Yes. Yes.


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sadly and joyously human

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