The Wilds Project.

One of these days I’ll sit and I’ll give it a voice. I’ll name it. I’ll feel it again and for the very first time. One of these days I’ll have eyes to see this clearly and I’ll have the courage to process. One of these days I’ll have the courage to speak out and I’ll armor down and be vulnerable about my pain, my loss, my rise, my fall-the whole ebb and the whole flow.

One of these days I’ll let it break me down wholly so that I can rebuild and transform. One day I’ll get so close to the flames they will consume and ignite, and from those ashes I will rise. I see it. I know its there. It isn’t an attainable road just yet.  Right now I am in fight or flight. I can’t let this wash over me yet because I don’t think I will survive. I have no choice. I HAVE TO SURVIVE. My girls need me. She needs me.

Today I can bring the water to my lips but there is no relief.

One of these days, I will taste it and drink every fiber of this in and my story will be someone else’s anthem of freedom.

Today, It’s enough to just breath.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Rise and fall.

Today I’m stabbing the fabric, so desperate for the light to break through.

Head up shoulders back my loverlies.

x x

(Jan./2016)