renewal

  • Calling back

    Calling back

    There was a timeI left pieces of myselfin every room I entered. A little here.A little there. A word swallowed.A fire banked.A hand pulled backbefore it could reach. I became fluentin disappearance. But the body remembers. Beneath the skin,beneath the silence,something kept beating. Not broken. Waiting. So tonightI return to the dark as somethingremembered. I…

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  • Under the same moon

    Under the same moon

    Two wolves came walking out of the dark and somehow I knew them. No words spoken. No promise made. Only eyes meeting mine across the years. They found me where the wild things sleep, where the old roads disappear, and stayed. Soft breath. Warm fur. heartbeats beneath my hand. The quietest things can carry the…

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  • She Who Walks Between

    She Who Walks Between

    What happens when balance, restraint, and the quiet authority that emerges when kindness is mistaken for permission. She stands between light and dark — unseen, until she is not.

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  • The Library

    The Library

    I return here when the world outside becomes too loud. The hallway stretches into a distance I cannot measure, lined with …

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  • Exhale.

    Exhale.

    And in that moment, you look at yourself with the softness you so easily give to others, but so rarely offer your own reflection…

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  • Everywhere

    Everywhere

    We never actually lost ourselves; we just had to learn how to come back. To the song, to the twirling, and to the light that has always been ours

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  • Relapsing

    Relapsing

    Even when I do all the right things, when I set and maintain the boundaries I know I need, I can still slip. I slip because I wanted them to love me. Because I relive old wounds, time and again — wanting to be chosen, wanting to be loved, wanting to be seen. This time,…

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  • The Bridges In-Between

    The Bridges In-Between

    It’s true, not all of us who wander are lost. We slip between worlds, searching, exploring— summoned by the songs on the wind that call to us when we’ve stayed too long.

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  • Mirror Men

    Mirror Men

    I hear a stirring in the attic like dry leaves skittering on bone. Something is moving up there. I stop beneath the opening and listen

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