There exists no one-woman show.

It’s a beautiful existence, jumping in with both feet.

Perhaps I didn’t need the book as much as I needed to remember who my people are.

Tackle the hard stuff

Move through it all with kindness

Sadness and kindness

It’s possible to be both sad and kind

To lament on the way it was

While rejoicing in all that remains

I had no idea why I was in there. I just knew that it felt safe. Smaller. Or maybe it was because I felt larger.

The green sea glass is my favourite, and, even though it’s simply the remnants of Heineken bottle, we act like it’s a rare jewel, because you never know.

You scan the faces waiting for you; family, friends, and lovers all gone long before. You tell them to wait, finding the smallest one, wrapping your warm arms around her and ushering her back through to me.

Number lines are stupid and cross-multiplication is bomb. Keep that knowledge to yourself and in September do it whatever way your teacher asks for you to do it.

I don’t know who it was for, the display of anger, because it was never put on for others. I guess, in effect, It was just for me. Look at this, look at how broken you are. Fucking clean it up.