The chaos isn’t too much. It’s just right.
The chaos isn’t too much. It’s just right.
Faith is terrifying. It’s horrific at times to hold space like that inside when all of reality as far as I can see tells me to never believe in anything like love or magic.
I can’t touch Sigyn’s grief. All I can do is sit with Her and be nourished by Her presence.
I am a living miracle. We all are.
She listened with a discernment given by grace.
In the pause of breath, there is deep compassion.
Mistletoe, the kiss that killed. Arrow-sharp as love.
When I am enjoying myself, change is fluid, exciting, and natural.
This ledger records what remains.