Distress

Who are you? Who am I? A swelling, cataclysmic ride Pulsating, gyrating Bend and contract Pushing and pulling Ever more in abstract Who do we resemble? Who are we now? From the pale moon shadows, Bleeding the cow I can’t even fathom The perfect One here But I am just covered And smothered by smear.

Tears of Equilibrium

Sometimes I feel that becoming a parent leaves you with your guts poured out on the floor. All of you, in its messy gloriousness, spread everywhere for the world to see. As it is literally with childbirth, I suppose it is only rational for the rest of you – the inner, emotional you, to follow …

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