imprints
imprints
cut grass
tattooed arms
lone star
carved in skin
new bruise
on my back
your love
brands my heart
imprints
cut grass
tattooed arms
lone star
carved in skin
new bruise
on my back
your love
brands my heart
Sometimes I wish I was on my horse and sometimes I wish I was anywhere but here
mama bird in her nest protecting her own eggs I am a walking mirror neuron. Highly empathic and extremely sensitive, I feel other people’s feelings and tend to see deeply into situations. It’s both a gift and a burden. At at improv class I took recently, I mentioned my tendency towards empathy in a self-deprecating…
the guy that gets the girl is the one who knows how to love her to love with a full, open heart with a deep, listening ear with joy and abandon the guy that gets the girl takes a stand acts like a man claims her (loves her) the guy that gets the girl has…
Recently, I spent several hours alone at The Frye Art Museum drinking in the “Moment Magnitude” exhibit. I wrote pages in my journal. Random things I overheard people saying, snippets from the art descriptions or the videos and my own feelings and thoughts that arose. I also took pictures of things strangers had posted in…
Tonight’s entry is very late in coming. I’ve been talking with him for hours. And he’s been listening. A different kind of listening than I’m used to. He wanted to understand. What a remarkable experience. I’m not surprised then, that tonight’s randomly-chosen word, from the Delta of Venus by Anais Nin is gentle. My heart…
In improv class, we don’t get to use the words “don’t” or “no” and rarely get to ask questions when we are playing games. This is because it stops the story from moving forward. This has, of course, got me thinking about how I stop my own story. I see how many times I’ve let…