no. 31

To the days that remind us. Of our frailty. How little it can take. To break apart the ground. To turn it from concrete to sand. Quick and fast. When we feel lost. Numb. Invisible. Please dear earth. On these days. Let me feel your arms around me. Sunken deep below the surface. Not trapped but reminded. That you are the safe womb for my deepest child-self. Who on some days needs not to run away, but to sink inside you. And feel those big feelings. To reach around them. And hold them. Curled up in myself. My deepest child. Tucked deep below your surface. Mother. Remind me. Frailty too. Deserves its place.