I like being better.
It feels soft.
The edges are curved
and I glide,
I do not run.
It’s like the world is less harsh.
I no longer feel
like a serrated knife.
Walking around aimlessly.
Everyday afraid, of
the next person
I will obliterate.

I no longer fear
the words people say.
They do not matter.
Because I know I am better.
Not the very best,
but better than how I was.

A yes or a no, no longer
sends my head spinning
Because I’ve grown
quite fond of maybe.
It’s soft.
Just as I am soft,
And it feels right.
In the same way
a nice bowl of oatmeal
feels warm in the morning.

Embracing the sunlight,
too feels warm.
My glassy eyes were
transformed with tears.
I thought I would never stop.
They said crying is healing,
I spat at their lies.
Disgusted by
my vulnerability.

I used to be a piece of glass.
People watched me
from a distance.
Always afraid to get too close
because I would shatter.
But I realize my tears
have washed away
much more than
just mascara.
I learned to feel.

The phrase
‘It’s a healing process’
used to sound
like a death sentence.
But now I see that
it’s just them
saying to be patient.
The virtue I am learning.
I was told to take refuge
in thought that life
is gradual.
I didn’t think it
would ever come.
But it did.

When each day
is not as hard
as the last, I know
that I am no longer
a serrated knife.
I am becoming soft.

Healing is a journey.

A.M. At Peace With My Softness (via adrianaintheraw)
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better for me
doesn’t have to mean
completely sane.
Maybe it’s,
“just a little off my hinges,”
versus, “completely fucked up”
and that’s okay.

A.M, “Well” (via adrianaintheraw)
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so apparently people talk to their pets in baby voices, but when i see my cat i’m just like ‘hey brad’ and he’s like ‘meow’ and the conversation is over.

I don’t know why but for some reason the fact that your cat’s name is brad is hilarious to me

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People who shame young mothers suck. Just because YOU at 20 don’t want to give up partying and your ‘life’ doesn’t mean every other 20 year old wants to be a drunk with no meaning to their life. Get over your fucking self. My child didn’t ruin my life, she gave it meaning.


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please reblog if you’re a nature, gardens, spiritual blog.

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