there is no rhythm to the remembering, / no time or space or elaborate calling
mental health
the truth of it
words are fraying tethers.
inanimate
I thought of the end and / I met it for what it was.
preservation
inches from the nowhere drain
the rut
descend and dissolve
on why I can’t help myself
because I don't / know how to know / it any other way
times I felt I wasn’t enough.
Let’s stop making other peoples bodies our business.
anxiety as a chair
the thought of it being anything other than a chair scares you.
the year our children grew in isolation.
He's this whole entire other person and it's happened in secret.
why taking care of yourself is not admitting defeat.
Put on your own oxygen mask first. Always.
Magic Mama 