I do not have a closet full of mourning clothes I have never inked the names of my dead on my tender forearms in solemn

Reclaiming my inner badass at 50
I do not have a closet full of mourning clothes I have never inked the names of my dead on my tender forearms in solemn
Originally published by the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective the line between the face I show the world and my shadow self increasingly grows thin superimposed
moonlight and shadow play against my walls trace my curves reveal my secrets in this backside of the night owls swoop by my open window
Originally published by the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective The line between the face I show the world and my shadow self increasingly grows thin
Moonlight and shadow play against my walls trace my curves reveal my secrets in this backside of the night owls swoop by my
As I think about my blessings this Christmas Eve, I am filled with gratitude for the love, support, friendship, inspiration and mentorship that I have
I do not have a closet full of mourning clothes I have never inked the names of my dead on my tender forearms in black
My imagination was captivated this morning by the lyrics of Ryan Montbleau’s All or Nothing The minutes hours weigh heavily upon my shoulders in the aching
I do not have a closet full of mourning clothes I have never inked the names of my dead on my tender forearms in black