Before I was a Pinterest-crafting, blogging-about-parenting mom of three...before I was the very patient wife of an endurance athlete, before I had my own house that I am required to clean every day so that it doesn't look like a scene out of Mad Max... I wrote poetry. And it was deep and dark. And I liked it that way. There was something about becoming a mom that made me feel like I couldn't write that way anymore. Or if I did, someone would find my poetry books and think something was wrong with me. So I locked that creative piece deep down inside, and let the words just die inside. Yet somehow they didn't die. They continued to build, to grow, to gain a power of their own. Recently, whether it be all my health stuff going on or something else, I find that I can no longer lock those words inside. They have a voice of their own and need to be shared. Darkness swallows up the light The winter night's magical rush Takes an unwielding turn The wi...
wife. mother. writer. kidney transplant recipient.