You're not the last to hurt her, man,
She wishes she could say you were,
She's glad to say you won't be. Shan,
Is't not? But you'll deny as per, as per.

She was a thorn within your side,
A feather to get off your chest,
You let it go, you let it bide,
You cursed her, wished her all the best.

You're not the last to hurt her, man -
Her husband has that honour -
Hug her best verse as best you can,
And never say you won her.

Quit yelling at your kids and expect them to sleep well
Quit yelling at your kids in the morning right after they wake up, before school and expect them to have a good day
You set the tone for your children
You set the tone for YOUR voice that they will always remember in their heads
You become their inner voice
Don't be their inner critic
Let's raise kids who don't need therapy to heal from their childhoods
Speak Life,
Speak Love,
Speak Bravery,
Speak Kindness,
Speak Hope,
Speak wisdom and,
Speak Truth
Most of all listen to your children. Be their safety net. Be their Home

-Michelle Sorenson, M. ED

wait a moment, please.
should she feel sorry for being an inconvenience?
she'd rather plant the seeds of self-love
and wait for them to turn into trees,
sheltering her from poisonous bitterness,
nurturing her inner peace,
so that she can leave this world with ease,
letting time cover her steps with green and red,
letting the branches take shape of her silhouette.
someday this path might be found by someone else,
as unaware of her worth as she once was,
all of out of strength, given up on all her hopes;
she'll follow whispers and slowly retrace the steps,
and take her shelter among the fallen leaves,
nurturing her inner peace.
wait a moment, please.
should she feel sorry for being an inconvenience?

I hear you, little girl,
You don’t need to hide.

I hear you, little girl,
You don’t need to perform.

I hear you, little girl,
You are now growing into a woman.

I hear you, little girl,
And cry for the things that were stolen.

I cry for you little girl,
You can just be.

I cry for you little girl,
You are brave with much to offer.

I smile for you, little girl,
And am so proud of who you’ve become.

I heal for you, little girl,
And let you rest for a while.

I thought a single line of white dust up your right nostril can numb away the pain
That countless nights of drunken stupors could make me forget
That constantly telling myself I'm just experimenting and not suppressing
Hoping one day I'd forgive him but only finding myself regretting
You see I'm not addicted to the substance
I'm addicted to blame, blaming him for the pain
I'm addicted to the anger, the anger that he triggers when i realize I'm turning into him.

Always intoxicated on some other ailment. Intoxicated on the lustful idea that we could be the perfect pair
but now all i think is how i wasn't good enough, how K & L are your legacy, and I'm just a girl who you once said you loved, but don't bother to acknowledge.

You see dad, I denied my anger for so long
Said it was all in my head
but now i realize, I forgive you, because the more hate i fuel the more hate i feel

Is it too late?

Those words were painful to hear when you told me
I don't know if you know it
Because I certainly don't show it
And won't bring it up in conversation
Only via written representation
Can I say it without hesitation
So here goes it...

You know you lied...
(To yourself mainly)
A total fabrication
One that destroyed my vision of someone sacred
Altered love to blind hatred without persuasion
From which I'm now trying to retrain
Because I've missed out on important days
That should've been filled with celebration

Why not just give me an honest and open statement?
Like what you asked of me from an early age...
Was it to minimise the ache?
To save face from something failed?
To create distance from the ways in which you assumed everyone would frame it?

Anyway
That's me saying it as plainly as I can say it
About the way that you behaved then
And maybe
Just maybe
What I've said here
Will aid you
Bring closure to anything remaining
So that each and every day
You can pave more of your way
In coming to terms with all the hating
That you seem to linger in after waking

Spent the last few years
Living in disarray,

Always chasing safety,
Hoping I'd make it someday.

But safety only
Goes so far,

When I'm always
Going to war
With myself

And all I leave are
Scars.

Stuck in a dreamscape
Battlefield that makes it
Hard to go to sleep.

Post-traumatic stress
And nightmares eating me
For days,

Sometimes,
I just want to scream
And disappear for days.

Some days, I wonder,
Is there an end to
This storm?

Is there a better way to cope
Or will I have to suffer
A little more?

Holding on the hope you will return
For a moment think that you have
Brief impulse is all that I've earned
Resist coming completely back

I'm lying beneath skies full of stars
Frozen ground padding my head
Weakly wondering where you are
Pushing up buried expressions unsaid

The deep roots are tough to rip loose
They've been planted profoundly for so long
Forlorn because I failed to use
Fearing they'd come out wrong

Anguish has now awakened
Manifestation of my flaws
Regretting the path taken
Past a parasite that gnaws

The thought of freedom makes me laugh
Existing but actually dead
Like the way I cope with being half
Acting like I'm whole instead

Isolation is an alien feeling
Heard stories but had no clue
Hardly remember what it means to start healing
Never had a cut as deep as you