Does illness have a voice,and if so; is it melancholy,or dark and dank, divulgingdeepest despair, or revealinga vileness of nature? Discord creeps along my veins,disrupts muscles, systems failingunder the oppression –“Stay strong,” friends counsel,cannot hear the gathering storm,feel the heaviness cloaking me. I am not myself, but then;who am I? Is disease a mutationof the […]
Discharge the gun –protection a vesselthrough which our depthsare undefined…adrift Fear is a burrowerwears a false crownbirths losstrusts danger Hearts beg,amid this trigger-readinessfor a guardian – unafraidto court this meaningless Futility unchecked –to study productive optionsunimaginable in the current state of chaos on repeat. (Art my own)
These bones, they saywill finish me – too brittleto withstand the race But I am Willowrecollection wispymy dance defiant Porous as a sea spongesoaking up each daymettle despite the rattle (Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
One Woman's Quest II 
True!
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Thanks!
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I absolutely agree. What isn’t clear (to me) is how to set those boundaries OR how to set them without guilt. Always a challenge. (love how you framed this quote on what looks like a fence)
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Heather, I have that problem too. But I’m learning. Funny thing is that those who encounter our boundaries feel no guilt or anguish at all. Ugh.
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I’m learning too (although the learning curve is longer than I’d like!). It does feel one sided…I agree. 🙂 Andrea
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I feel like growing up we were discouraged from having boundaries, as if caring for self was a sleight to others.
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Amen!
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VJ, very interesting assertion. I like how you framed this. Keith
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Thanks Keith
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Most of my challenges are self-induced!
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Lol! What that is true!
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Amen!
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😊
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Oh yeah! 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻
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😊
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