My heart is full of stories: let’s release them all, ignite and rewrite, set fire to the old, free the present, create a soul space, wild freedom lived, to unfold and be told.
How can I fix this? …How do I take how I really am and replace that with who you’d like me to be?
And I still keep on searching for happiness somewhere, anywhere, with anyone, by doing something or avoiding everything. I change who I am repeatedly until I no longer recognize myself.
Janet Ruth Heller’s vulnerable and moving poem about women who have survived hysterectomy. She calls it a secret sisterhood.
“Why lay distinction, when we belong to the same organization? Why show hostility, when we belong to the same fraternity?” ~Tabna Shahid
An abuse survivor’s short poem about the power words have to hurt us, heal us, and help us move forward.
“Empty vessel, you’re in desperate need of filling, it says. Search. Yearn. Feel hollow. It’s deeper than you could ever reach. The demon just for me.”
A poem about one woman’s journey of healing her body and confidence after breaking her foot in a car accident.
Today I rise. I rise.
I stand walking naked unaided across beds,
Beds of fire.
Feet now hardened, prepared
To lunge, to fly, to leap.
“What am I looking for, bright screen?
Melt my time away.
Hours passed grazing everyone’s surface.
After looking at so many shells, I feel hollow.”