Words from the Soul RSS



Winter Love

Winter Love by my Grandmother Judith Wilder Grandmother of Sirens, friend of Fae. She loved through poetry. Loved with the depths of the ocean she bathed in everyday. Half earth half water, found her grounding by the sea. Writing the words her depths contained, but decorum would not allow to utter from her lips. She was two, one woman under the sun, another under the moon. I did not see our similarities in my youth, though we would send pages and pages of poetry, and call me her ‘lady of shallot’. I could not see the traits passed down through her blood. As I pour over her birth chart and find our divine connection in the stars, I gain understanding....

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I don’t know what to write about.

Inspiration alludes me. Bound by the pressure of perfection, I strangle my words, and suffocate my talent. Thought process caught up in the unnerving cycle as I tell myself, I can’t write if it’s not post worthy, and nothing is post worthy if I don’t write. So I sit here silently, staring at the blank screen closing and reopening all my apps, trying to trick my muse back to me. They tell me you have to write the bad words out. You have the let the cringe of your talent flow, before you get to the gold. But I have always been inpatient in nature. Never willing to wait, I leapt into bad decisions simply because they gave me the...

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My Muse

I am well versed in the language of grief. With a deep understanding of its ebbs and flows, I have learnt to accept that some days it’s okay to not be okay. Grief so tightly woven into the tapestry of life, nothing remains that has been untainted by its touch. Finding beauty within darkness, finding blessings within pain. On the days I miss you most, I remember you best. The passions of my life dimmed when you lost yours. As the fire begins to reignite, I feel your gentle breath on the flames. Eternally reminding me, it’s darkest just before dawn.

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It’s been six years since I tried to take my own life.

A slave to my depression, completely out of touch with my body and soul, I could not see life through my pain. I share this with you now to show you, it does get better. That you can be consumed by darkness and shadowed thoughts, and still survive, and eventually thrive. I share this with you now because my depression won on the days I would speak of it, because I survived when I finally told a friend of the war that was raging in my mind. I believe in complete transparency, I have never been ashamed of where I came from, of how I survived. The below was written two years ago after my sister passed away, before I...

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Be gentle

Be gentle on yourself through your healing process. Remember this journey will ebb and flow, healing is not linear, it cannot be confined to steps on a checklist. Your healing journey is exactly that, YOURS. Stop glancing your gaze to the side, stop getting caught up in others steps, TRUST in the divine timing. Trust that your own healing will take place just as it needs to, for you. Healing is not all light and love, we grow through our shadows, and sometimes we ache with growing pains. But this is all an experience my love, I promise you your aches will ease, and your waters will tame. It will come, in divine time. ... Today was my sisters birthday,...

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