She is The Martyr. Gifted to us, by God, as Freedom from our Sins. All we need do is be the hand that carries the Whip. A frayed rope of old, exposed wires and duct tape. We walk, we pray, we lash. One for each awful thought, every temptation satisfied, every gilded rule broken. The … Continue reading Gaia


I'm sorry I yelled Made you feel small And like your efforts Didn't matter at all I see you, I promise I know that you're here Not just for the laughs But also the tears I'm stuck spinning In circles and cycles Tormenting myself With this downward spiral Crushed beneath pride And feeling I'm a … Continue reading Postpartum