Status Updates From To Drink Coffee with a Ghos...

He gives me the space and understands. Thank you for that.

It took my quiet. It broke who I was and now this is where we are.

The dust growing on piles of books… grief

The one thing above all that kills me everyday, every moment I think of you… I want to remember the good but it’s so clouded by the pain and anger…

I watched you leave… I flew across the country to you.. I was too late the last time…

I lived in books because you made life unbearable and I could escape… I read 100s to thousands before I was even in high school..

How accurate already everything said. Down to the smoking while pregnant, the strange man she invited in who punched holes in the wall… it’s just a book of parallels for all the things left unsaid..

I am unsure how this will go, but as someone whose mother died before apologizing, before correcting behavior, before becoming the mother to me I so desperately craved, I feel it will resonate. Maybe it might provide some closure. It was a struggle to grieve a mother and the idea she could have changed and been the mom I needed.

i’m alone, & for the first time, i’m okay with being alone.

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the princess wield her own sword in this one.

the little girl was so desperate to feel loved, to feel like she existed at all, that she took anything she could get, even if it was nothing but a bunch of make-believe. - don’t accept scraps.
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i walk the thin line between nostalgia & trauma, never fully knowing the difference.

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amanda has to be my fav poetry writer