We are sisters under the skin
We are not just invisible women
We are members of a tribe of knife wielding women
Fierce in our understanding of trust and what it doesn't mean
Betrayal becomes the thing we do to keep from ever being left again
Or vulnerable or lost or used again and tossed away like a used condom
Like the scalpel, like the stirrups, like the old man looking who says
"Mind if I give it a go?"
Thursday, July 16, 2009
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10 comments:
This is so very good. I've got my whetting stone out. It's been that kind of a week.
We need to talk. I'll send you an email when I wake up. I'm trying to take a little nap, so my brain is not engaged, but I can actually go to sleep. Have you ever heard anyone bitch about insomnia in the nap department. Doesn't that make me the laziest woman in the world?
I meant I can't actual go to sleep in the late afternoon like I want. It's hot out, the garden's dry and I'm so fucking lazy all I want to do is nap. The dogs are napping why not me?
Love this!!!
Suzi, I'm so glad to see you. Another sister under the skin. We need to gather and support one another. Scarlet could use some sisterhood. Our Invisible Woman has indeed become invisible, in a hostile takeover. She needs an intervention and he needs a swarm of angry women to land on him. PT's his name. Progressive Traditionalist he calls himself. Shit! That always makes me snigger.
I love your words. Also? I use the phrase "knife-wielding" in my Twitter bio. Thank you for stealing me off Peach Tart's blog roll.
an inspiring write,Utah. Great job. cheers,
Marinela
"She needs an intervention and he needs a swarm of angry women to land on him."
Ahhhh Gods.
All my she needs is a mom who is in a position to help her make her getaway when she is ready and she doesn't have one and it is carving me open in rough slashes and chewing chunks of bloody me and I can't stop bleeding tears today. Fuck!
And her I am vomiting all over your blog because I can't write it on mine.
I want a sister like you...
Thome, We are sisters under the skin. I just do my bleeding and wailing about it in the open. You can bleed here anytime you want. I sure wouldn't call it vomit. More like tears and blood. Too bad you can't talk about it at home, but I understand the need for a quick getaway, making a run for it. Rescue.
Progressive Traditionalist, you say? Where? I'm beside you like a Valkyrie
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