Its’ been harder than ever, to write and breathe so deeply. To do the work of restless breathing, touching wounds that haven’t quite healed correctly, I am afraid.

these scars will fester, these scars won’t jester…

feel them, my knees are hard as black coals,

feel them, my heart swallows shadows,

feel them my feet are swollen in grief,

and yet,

O’ God I’m still here…. (written by the author of this blog)