Writing is my anchorin the sand.What keeps me afloatwhen the ocean of my mindbecome choppy.What tethers meto the planetwhen I’m floatingup in space.The grounding space,the safe place.Giving me clarity in these trying times.Through the lines,I write with messyscribbles. I returnhome to me,again,and again,and again….
Tag Archives: mental health
Haze
I wander off into the hazeinside my brainwhen horomones changeand everything balanceson the brink of insanity.I listen to the waves,feeling the airleave my lungs.When I can’t seein front of me,I sit and wait,wait for myself to return.
Follow the Sun
I breathe insalt air.I let go of worryas I feel the warmthof the sun on my bare skin.I am happy, gaining backwhat I lost in the wintermonths, not seeing or feelingthe day to its fullest.I follow the sun,I walk along the ocean.Happy to bejust to be.
Rest
I embrace quietlike a long-lost friend.Nowhere to go,nowhere to be,in my lonesomeI find serenity.
Wish You Were Here
These days, I listen to Pink Floyd and drown out the thoughts trying to infiltrate my good vibes.I embrace the sun and take photos ofwhat makes me happy — spring flowers,seagulls flying over the ocean,daydreamy clouds that let mepass the time in peace.I think of my grandmother,how this place was her whole life.She was theContinue reading “Wish You Were Here”
Momentary Beauties
The days where I am pulled toward the outdoors, I follow the steps in the sand where the water had been hours before. The mirrored reflection on the land leaves me awestruck every time. How incredible these joys are, appreciating these momentary beauties as often as I can. A reminder of all the possibilitiesto come.
Faces
The ways in which I viewMy reality come to the surfaceWith each new day.Some days are heavy and I learnTo sit instead of resist the wayIn which my mind has learnedTo operate, the protectionsIn place to keep me saneWhile I wiggle room to danceIn the madness of my mindUnder the stars and screens.Some days areContinue reading “Faces”
Bed Ridden
The crystals in my left ear kept me in bed for three days.I hated screens, movement, and the reminders of life outside my room. I sought comfort in the sound of my fan on my dresser and the darkness sleep brought, which was more often than not. It’s the only way I could feel comfortable, drifting off into sleep, avoiding all signsContinue reading “Bed Ridden”
Writer’s Block
“The creative adult is the child who survived.” —Le Guin It’s difficult to explain to thosewho don’t understand.The throughline of childhoodbreaks off somewhere asthe decades continue on. I hold tight to my pen to make sense of those early years.How they definedthe womanI am today.Healing my inner childone day at a time.Poetry helped mefind myContinue reading “Writer’s Block”
Memory of Pink Faded Clouds
The early November skybefore sunrise is untouchable.It’s quiet but fierce, wantingto burst into the daybut takes a moment to breathe.I drive east. I watch the darkblue grow lighterpops of yellow appearbelow the horizon,as though the sun is ripping throughthe universe, through the land and sky,to say good morning, hello.Music plays, it’s too early tocomprehend aContinue reading “Memory of Pink Faded Clouds”
