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home is a person
if there is one thing you take from meone thing that gives you peaceis that you will always have a home in meI will gladly be your place of comfortwaiting by the fire to nurse your wounds and celebrate your joysthere are few wrongs you could make that would close my door the promise of…
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rage
I don’t have words for the rage that I carry. It sits inside my soul, a fire that consumes.I carry a cold star behind my breastbone. There are days where it feels like I have two choices. I can let it burst, supernova. Let my starlight white out my vision and consume my world. Or…
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raised hands
when I was a child, they called it discipline to raise a hand against meit isn’t abusethere are no marksno scarsyou can still sit and your lip isn’t splitit’s just discipline maybe if you didn’t run your mouthstick your nose where it doesn’t belonglower your voiceobey, obey, obeymaybe then you wouldn’t need a switch, a…
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joy
being a parent is the hardest joy of my lifebut sometimes I cringe at the pitter patter of little feet at 2 in the morningI cringe at always having my attention pulled in a million different placesthere are other times when I feel a little body curl into my ownI feel that little hand seeking…
Kim Writes Stuff 