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Continue reading →: When PTSD hits
Still Here Breath comes Night comes back Memories crack now Body flinches before the thought Healing is learning safety, one breath at a time, slow
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Continue reading →: Sen-hai Saturday #35
Twin red nebulae bloom softly in starlit dark— embers of the void. Two red nebulae— the stars pretend not to stare at their quiet blush. SenHai Saturday #35 – I Write Her
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Continue reading →: Somewhere just behind my eyes
Some days my mind is a room with the lights left on, but no one inside to notice the hum. I move through hours like fog through trees, touching bark, never staying. Voices reach me as if underwater— their edges blur, their meaning bends. I nod, I answer, I smile…
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Continue reading →: Survival
I wake with a thought that hums like static, thin and sharp behind my eyes, a question without an answer pacing the room before I do. The day asks me to be thorough, to explain myself, to smile convincingly, to move with purpose— but my hands shake around the simplest…
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Continue reading →: Moving through anxiety, a series of linked haiku’s
Morning light flickers Thoughts hum like loose power lines Breath trips over breath Coffee cools untouched The clock ticks louder than rain Waiting fills the room My hands count heartbeats Every silence feels too sharp Edges everywhere I forget my name Only the sound of being Stuck inside my chest…
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Continue reading →: Dawn learns how to breathe
Cold stars hold their breath One spark, igniting the dark— Dawn learns how to breathe Igniting – Word of the Day Challenge
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Continue reading →: loved and Safe in my psychiatrists office
In the quiet room where the clock slows down,where chairs face each other like open hands,Dr. Barry listens—not just to my words,but to the pauses between them. Her love is not loud.It does not rush or rescue.It lives in the steadiness of her voice,in the way she rememberswhat I was…
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Continue reading →: Scandalous gossiping ladies
Every afternoon at precisely three o’clock, the lace-curtained window of Mrs. Agatha Bell’s sitting room glowed with the promise of tea—and gossip. Mrs. Bell, small and sharp-eyed, poured the tea with ceremonial care while her dearest friend, Mrs. Dorothy Finch, leaned forward in her chair as if secrets had weight…
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Continue reading →: Got the feels!
2 AM, I should be sleeping, but nope…that would be too easy! 😊😊✌️✌️😊😊😊
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Continue reading →: Rain at night, a musette
The rain ticks time on the windowpane, A silver hush on the street below; Pillows breathe out the day’s last strain, While shadows rock, and curtains slow. Il pleut, il pleut, the dark hums low, A fiddle made of eaves and leaves. Each drop finds its remembered place, On roof,…
Thank you for reading, liking, and commenting to my posts. It is very appreciated.
I am currently raising money to pay for ongoing psychotherapy. I am a survivor of complex trauma, I have dissociative identity disorder, and complex PTSD. Therapy can be very expensive.
If you feel like donating to my fund you can donate using pay pal. My pay pal email for donating is:
Don’t feel you have to, there is no pressure, but I’m grateful for any donations that are received.
Again thanks for visiting!
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