I have narrow hips but I’m still a woman

I don’t have a ring but I’m still loved 

I’m a single mother but I’m a wife

I’m single but I’m not lonely 

I’m sad but know what happiness is 

and I’m not lost….I’m simply traveling 

A time in my life

I do nails, I love cats and anything that can make me laugh but recently I’ve been hurting so much I don’t know if I can just reblog and be ok.  The pain I feel runs to a depth I didn’t know I had.  For years I pushed people out of my life, men specifically, that I never really understood how it would feel if it happened to me. 

Summer 2014 I was forgotten by someone that told me they could never forget me…I think I’ve cried everyday since then and I’m still not without a dry face.  I’m not really sure why I’m writing this but it feels good so why not?  

33 years and I’m still learning…best of luck to you 20 somethings :) 

Shot down

While I bled out on the floor you asked that I have empathy for how much pain you were in for having to pull the trigger.

Justified by “I had to do it.”  I look back to see white knuckles through the gun smoke.

Stepped over me to throw a bandaid of friendship in an attempt to stop the bleeding from a gaping wound that I couldn’t reach.  It was only enough to ease your guilt.  

I’m not healing fast enough, frustration from hearing me writhe in pain, blood inconveniently pooling around the soles of your feet, guttural sobs permeate your ears forcing your inevitable retreat.

Through the blur of my tears I see your back, turned on the bloody footprints you leave behind.  

A broken me, dying alone, to an echo of a gunshot and the plume of it’s smoke.