Wildling Child

A Must Read from Our Lady of Lust and Grace Source: Wildling Child

Another Season

The shadows are making their way to my door again, and my stoop has been painted in grey, but I know that soon the grey will give way to the blackness and I will spend another season crushing bricks and sprinkling salt in every corner of my fragile mind. © Nicole Lyons 2017

The Good Girls Are Always Found

I have broken my own bones, splintered them and placed them into bags, dozens of bags of me, and I have thrown them from the windows of speeding cars in hope that you will find me after the crash, somewhere where the good girls would never go, littered between back alleys in the dark parts, … Continue reading The Good Girls Are Always Found

Yes, I Remember You

Yes, I remember you. I remember the hitch and the gasp before my veins opened up into fields upon fields upon barren wastelands. I remember how thunder felt that night when a thousand wild stallions carried my pulse around the mountains of my bones and placed it where I hoped I would never remember you … Continue reading Yes, I Remember You

The earworms in a Ghost

I am heavy with the weight of the world, a ghost of the girl I used to be. Where is she? The one with the feet that skimmed the ground. I can hear her still, deep within the walls of my mind, drumming her knuckles to the beat of dying dopamine. Oh how it wails … Continue reading The earworms in a Ghost

In the absence of melancholy

Fear no longer sits with melancholy; it dances wildly, trumpeting its arrival upon the departure of sadness. There was security in despair, as if depression was some sort of cloak of invisibility, and wrapping myself in it ensured my quiet observation of the world. Fear has stripped me of my cloak to parade me naked … Continue reading In the absence of melancholy

Clusters – This world is a cruel place

Thank you to Feminine Collective for publishing this piece about how bipolar disorder often feels. Clusters

Unmade Bed – Stephanie Bennett-Henry

  I never could make sense out of my own heart. The way it hurts like it was broken in the womb, and I reach for everything like an umbilical cord. I wonder about the moment when this life became too bright for the battlefield behind my eyes. I close them, thinking maybe I can … Continue reading Unmade Bed – Stephanie Bennett-Henry

Fancy Shoes – Stephanie Bennett-Henry

There's not a simple way to explain the process of this sickness disguised trick or treat surprise guessing game. No easy way to help you understand. But I can tell you; these fancy shoes have never felt good. They feel permanent. They feel like forever swirling around in quicksand turning to concrete. Stuck on a … Continue reading Fancy Shoes – Stephanie Bennett-Henry

Six Words

It's amazing how much can be said, or not said, in six little words.