Sorting some today out

The last year has, shed itself like a hamster wheel I’ve been running. I feel still because its in one place, but its the same ratitouille race. Wellness, is an industry I’d love to be part of, I’d love to not be part of, i will never be part of.. in the way

Wellness speaks. 

My wellness is of in wellness, my wellness is of others wellness mirrored to me like a song and dance liquid to a rhythm of times keeping.. just for i, evening primrose of the forest. Stubby and freckled with hair. Sweet and tickling to the nose, all sorts of dreamy swirlcyclisies to a beezies. 

AN honest soul, I’ve drooled over 

Wretched with themes wellness would package as not in this space, protect my energy from. 

Cut throat responses, i understand so well, as my blades are sharp. 

The solution to malady is not wellness. 

Malady asks, who is listening right now to me? 

Who sees? 

Who speaks? 

Who acts? 

Who believes?

Who comforts? 

Who ignores?

Who are we? 

“You feel heavy from holding so much truth inside, let it exist outside of your body.”

DO IT ANGRY, has been rippling in my waters, which are cool from the tincture of falls precursors.  

Anger used to be my freeze state... my fight became flight.. 

and now when asked to pick up the unmanageable threads of my life and reweave.. 

i am called to remember that i am creative, i suckled my own tit to make it thru the winter and this survival was to the public as unwellness. But i made it thru winter and survived to tell the tale, 

Now I understand that breast feeding is magic. 

A suckle dance between dependence and source

When Mother wound  neglect pains go generations of counter productive.. 

One must mother ones cells like it is okay to be so thirsty with the muscle memory of feeding.