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i’ve read that mothers and daughters are born in cycles—learning and unlearning until they find a way free from the wounds of experiencing each other. sometimes it feels like it’s the same person all along.

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each time i find myself creating new love is another time that i learn i never really lost it. it exists in me forever, pushing the boundaries of my heart until i am heavy and empty at the same time.

i deserve the love i want. i deserve clarity and certainty. the next time i fall in love, i won’t need to convince myself of it. it will just be the plain truth. i won’t need to write roundabout prose

no one’s perfect but you are very good

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