I’m not a good communicator, Universe + The Red-Eye This time last year, I started sending out newsletters full of love notes and poetry. They followed my journey of healing, and now I’m being called to reflect and speak life into them. To continue the path. […]
The dreamy songs wrapped around the guitar strings and callused fingers of 2008. […]
When the tornado tore it from it’s very foundations. I’m in love with the sleep crusted in the corners of my eyes, the muscles in my legs that for some reason just keep on running, the flour that’s stuck to my fingers perpetually since I’ve learnt how to make bread. She feels and she knows. […]
Drink me in, while you can. Before I realise I’m trapped in a glass and my oppositional defiance to rules flares up. Get wine-drunk on me baby, because you know how intoxicating a wild one can be and, girl, you better drink it down before the angels take their share. Because I’m the kinda woman […]
See, even despite all these wounds I still think I’m a tribe leader just one war-painted in blood and scars instead of tribal markings and I can still host the dance around the bonfire I can still fuel flames I can still beat drums, though weaker now, because if my heart isn’t a skin stretched […]
in a room like this one with blue carpet cut-offs and cabinets full of china and bone and other people’s stolen things. I fell in love with you while you were pushing your glasses up with one hand, talking about grappa with the other, golden trinket display light in your eyes. And I want to […]
