I am changing in ways no one taught me how to name

Not like a wound closing but like something hardening where feeling used to be

I catch myself grieving for the person who flinched less who believed the world might soften if they stayed gentle long enough

Now I move quieter I choose my words like exits I leave rooms before they can leave me

This isn’t growth they write about its subtraction Its learning which parts of myself the dark can keep without killing me

I don’t feel reborn I feel rearranged a shape made to survive pressure not beauty

Awakening My Creative Consciousness…

Finally. I believe that I have succeeded in crawling out of the doldrums. There are days that run into weeks and then months when creativity flows freely through your fingers and mind and feels like the easiest thing ever, then there are those days… that seep into weeks… and then months… when you are lost and in a total stump. When this happens, we deeply feel that something is amiss. Things…

Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.