She transmuted her worry into hope because she knew damn well she didn’t have the full scope.
Art by: Jeff T. and myself
we sit side by side crisscross applesauce at the back of the room
i used to be a romantic she says as the smoke curls around her head
listening quietly i try not to swat at the smoke
understanding that this feeling that she is feeling just needs time and healing
i join her in her darkness with my tiny light
hold my hand i say
don’t start that goofy holistic shit says my dead hearted friend
this makes me laugh and she half smiles
hand still outstretched
she takes it
tears stream down her face as she ashes into the potted plants
holding hands we sit side by side crisscross applesauce at the back of the room
If it does not support your growth, cut that shit off.
Then identify and nurture what does.
Give thanks for both.
If it supports your growth, water it with love so that it will expand and expand and expand and expand…
Be kind to your mind.
There is more to me than the skin I see.
When I remember to forget all of my identities the ecstasy that is forever appears.
In the ecstasy that is forever, there is always more and more.
Swan diving into the soul of strangers she found they weren’t strange at all; cut from the same cosmic cloth they are.
She stood in the graveyard of her identities.