the Purgatory of a Broken Heart

Fall into the abysmal depths

Round and round we spin.

So yes.
If we spiral
We do it beautifully
On purpose
And we land on our feet.

This is not collapse.
It is a controlled rotation.

Why should I be scared to step out at night? I’m grown. I can handle myself. I got the shank and the taser. ☠️

Why should I stay trapped between these four walls, engulfing me like a prison?

I want to live and be free.

When you touch grass, how do you embody that?

How do you make the most of every moment and every second of every day in nature.

Naturally, we lavish in its beauty and we shall not do this at a break neck speed.

Touch that is transportive, that takes you elsewhere.

Tender, full, generous, enveloping. Infusing spirit into deadened appendages. The feeling they lacked seemed abstract, but now, alive.

Insatiable. Like rain soaked soil pretending it did not need water.