The One

How to survive when that fragile soul, so frayed at the edges, and the tormented heart come undone? Fall to fragmented pieces you will never be able to put together again? When it is like jumping, head first, into an ocean of shards, slicing, cutting your skin? When you are nothing but raw flesh and

Continental Drift

I am an island. Sort of out at sea, but that sounds like a fishing vessel without engine, the sails torn, and no captain aboard. Somewhere far out on the ocean. But this is not me. I’m not adrift – am grounded. Am not a lonely island, on which one can ignite fire for fire