My driveway has an icy approach when icy.. yeah I’m speaking in those “infinity-sequence” 5 moves ahead patterns that reveal to me.. while fishtailing ..I place my hand on the outside of the emergency brake because I can best feel the movement of the rear of the car when holding this line.. a meridian and the car is a s strong as a beast.. I rather not drive without you.. so I find those pulses, I’m aware of your pulses and I find them. Placing my fingers on the outside meridian so I can better sense your rear.

I’m not…


The boys are home and it is glorious..i am in awe, ..it is just what you’ve become.. it’s glorious your new tone.. I’m sure this is what we thought it would be.. so close now.. throwing that word love around ..this is how we live.

But let me confess .. I have only known the life of regret.. and let me confess I would have lived that life.. but I need this one with you now .. …


Maybe we are the mountain .. allowing others to climb us, standing perched atop our shoulders .. maybe you are like me .. kind instead of brutal.. brutal at times when kindness doesn’t fit. I like the way you say it, when you’re brave enough to say it …you say it. .. this fitting hand

Maybe I rode the wave without that taming harness called a boat and maybe the pull of the moon danced inside you, far before you saw light.. born this way.. maybe the water is muddied and the earth is wet.. we are fertile and the…


It may have been a thousand years since the last time I sat on a bed writing.. or maybe 18 months … no terror in guessing where I’m sitting now..I am on a bed and I am alive in my comfort… me, alone but fully with you. .. I’ve written so many letters to you, from a far smaller bed. Those first day letters had a youth filled energy of wanting to get free. I wanted your heart before you were willing.. that’s me then and I guess it’s still me .. so I’m calling to you from here inside…


I don’t wonder about why I do anything anymore. A few minutes of quality after care promotes the most delicately brutal of storms.. we brought home a fox.. we confessed .. and you used my giant chair to flood..

Today I know no lie..

You must never stop meeting me this way. You must never cease biting your wrist. I am not the trap and your legs weak and shaking I am no trap..

Have you ever been so free?

It is with great discernment that I watch you.. I like the sight of the disappearance, reappearance… so dark against…


Fidelity, Briton Riviere, 1869

You know about all the hats I’ve collected. The travel log, one me .. all that road. I’ve stared down more than my share … much more than I would have thought allowed. The shift we’re in beloved. The air we’re in…

This air and the years.. the dream made true.. my eyesight and the hair.. I can still write with eyes closed.. I can still draw stills from your rolling energy. Even while frozen on my screen you are energetic. I can see we have another summit coming ahead. So I walk heavy behind you pushing the debris and…


You should probably know. Empaths don’t always Predict accurately.. in fact one could say what we think is is only the extension of our attachments. I think you’ve heard me say that before. What fear would allow these projections. Am I the fear? Of course not. The inside of my balloon of a life is lined with shield carrying warriors… I am doing the work.

I threw a fit and the arms of the fit were shorter than my intention. I hurt the entirety of the free spots, I had to check the integrity of it all. Would I let…


This is not a test, nor is it an experiment. The pain is real even if almost everything and everyone else involved isn’t.

I have loved a non person. Her traumas as a child stole her entire life from her. The problem wasn’t loving her, the problem was the endless list of defenses she created from a young age to deal with her own feelings and traumas in direct conflict with her abililty to accept or give love. She has been and continues to be abused. I thought her way of being was a choice. …


author’s photo 11.20.20 cilantro curry roasted butternut oatmeal

I am awake now. I can see that even with all that’s changed I am very much at the same place I was before..there are still choices to be made. I have some success here but with this liberated heart I am free to choose the next thing. I can stay or I can go. I can do new or I can settle for these hills. You should know, I know… that sea is still out there. My palate has improved and my child is starting to play again inside me.

I don’t want to make comparisons. I am in…


authors picture ..breakfast for the slightly less codependent 11.18.20

Recovery is full of surprises and God has an amazing way of providing the ink for the next story. Recovery is discovery they say and I discovered my sister has a natural way of talking to the child in anyone. She paints the picture well enough for even this mind to see.. I’ve been blind to her power.. she is my sister . She remembers the child I was and maybe… she’s been holding this love and those words for most my life. Therapy can come from the girl you walked to school with, the girl that fought with you…

Moses in the Wild

Texan love stories, Christianity, recovery, Bret Marston Hall

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