This is why I wrote you poetry
and sprinkled your chest with rose petals.
This is why I kissed you in public.
This is why I made time to meet your parents.
This is why I listened.
This is also why I left.
As I learn to fill my own cup, I realize why it was so empty.
Who’s more honest? The womanizer with a bottle of Jack and smoldering eyes or the guy in the corner privately judging him and feeling sorry for himself? I know which one I’d rather take home. Why? Because he lives out loud and isn’t blaming anyone for his troubles. We need to stop labeling people as…
I hurt my finger on Friday morning. Badly. At the time, I was rushing to get my kids to school because my older daughter slept through her alarm and needed a ride. My roommate asked if I was okay. I told her yes but in actuality, I was in tremendous pain, the kind of pain…
I have had a very active “Wounded Child” inside of me much of my life. Recently, I have been making a conscious choice to tend to the wars inside of me that have created a lot of pain in my life. I’ve found that as long as I wear my “victim” hat around, I attract…
(These words were plucked from the heartstrings of Kenny Alton and the Toric field he created as he gave his Senior Synthesis Presentation at Antioch.) Axis Mundi The red wine warming (and his curls) words of love married with intellect heartspace. A tattooed landscape of masculinity lies before me (the heart is a conscious organ…