“and an ultrasound screen stretches still and you’re sent home to wait for the uterine muscles to contract out the dead dreams?” (pg 154).


saw that monday.


still waiting on thursday.  thanksgiving.


i feel that thanks is the thing i need to do to heal my soul until my body decides to stop being a tomb.  


but saying thanks at this point seems like a lie.


praying that i’ll be brave enough to try, despite the presence of ugly, despite the absence of the beautiful…

By: seeminglyrandom

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