to me — the girl who thought she was un-lovable. to you — the girl who thinks she will not be loved. each blow of pain chips away at the sculpture of your being — somebody will study. each shadow of doubt in your heart reconfigures the light — somebody will observe. each stain of… Continue reading



my acupuncturist keeps me grounded. she runs her own office - just her and the needles. sure, there are cotton swabs and cups and heat lamps too. her perfectly pressed white pants peek out from under her equally pristine white coat. her small blush suede heels emit a delicate indication of her every step as… Continue reading acupuncture