on the verge

still there,
underneath it all

unfolding,
give it time

adjust

floating through the days,
sleep is what I crave

I need to get up,
but I'm stuck.

wanderer

this is all-too familiar...so familiar it has become foreign: tainted & insignificant. this body doesn't need much, but this mind wants to help & this soul wants to spread some light.

spiral out

It used to be "words" that provided that comfort...or so it seemed. Now it's clear that it's not about the words...but the space between them: the gaps. "Wrap me, cover me" not with words...but nothingness. Grounded, to face this intensity and wonder. "Dripping, oozing tenderness."

moving forward

nothing is truly hidden: it's an open secret.
the message is here for all of us: it's waiting for you.