A quiet moment alone,
where touch speaks louder than words,
a journey inward,
finding comfort in the skin you’re in,
a celebration of your own presence—
no need for permission,
just the gentle knowing of yourself.
A quiet moment alone,
where touch speaks louder than words,
a journey inward,
finding comfort in the skin you’re in,
a celebration of your own presence—
no need for permission,
just the gentle knowing of yourself.
Laughter of the powerful woman that have become my tribe.
And the dirty jokes that trigger it.
Sometimes silence.
Sitting in the shower, head against the wall. Eyes closed, water running down my face. Wine glass of whatever I’m pretending is booze that night.
Occasionally spending time with an unsmelly, uncomplicated man.
But unfortunately uncomplicated man is an oxymoron.
Reminding myself that I am a spiritual being by partaking in some DIY time.
Womansplaining to myself if you will.
Sitting on my gorgeous royal blue couch in my underwear doing a word search, watching trashing tv.
Also cocaine.