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CW: suicidal ideation and a suicide attempt I It is four o’clock in the morning my soul is chatty and will not be denied. I am ducked under the blanket with the phonelight, sleeping 7 year old limbs strewn sweetly across my body. Mom forgot and left the heat off again in my petulant battle
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Big gratitude to Lake, and Dragonfly Nymph, for their teachings. Yesterday, I ruptured. Broken open by a poet, and something that had been hatching. Things were different again. Yesterday, I thought to myself: a few months ago I was caterpillar soup. Today, I am a butterfly who cannot escape their cocoon. How did my mode
Lilith Rising 