Appalachian Cryptid

i think humans are meant to lay in bed with the love of their life all winter.

to be seen without performing. to be heard without screaming. to be missed without disappearing. to be enough without proving it. to be held without falling apart. to be understood without explaining. to be wanted without conditions. to be. to be.

Grandmas were so right about puzzles and knitting and crocheting and solitaire and reading slow and slippers and baking and watching deer in the backyard send post

done healing my inner child. next up is my inner teen. her highness demands a sword.

My toxic trait is that no matter what I need three hours to myself at the end of the day to do absolutely nothing.