Gently now, dear one. Gently. Don’t you think we were always on our way here, here, to this place where grit and grace collide in equal space and time? We still have time, we have so much time. Don’t you think we were calling each other home somehow? A different home, but found through this… Continue reading this collision
Draw me pictures of the pieces you watched leaving in the small hours of morning, the pieces that burned through the landscape of your life as you desperately tried to let go and move on and let it be. Let it be. Let it be as real and as raw as you feel it now. Show me you, all of you.