Weighing on the mind
I start with the admission that some make proudly, some make shamefully, that I make somewhere between the two. I am fat. Chubby. Curvy. Overweight.
Second Star to the Right
There’s a famous story that starts, “All children grow up, except one.” And just once more, I wish that weren’t true. I wish that Wendy Darling had chosen to stay, had cast aside expectations and the bitter days of growing up and stayed in youth and paradise forever, like I wish I could.
A Mum’s Lament
Is he taking the piss?! When I come home from a long day at work, Tired and hungry, something definitely hurts, I enter the hallway, sighing with bliss,
I love you (but it’s not enough)
“Take it off.” The words rang hollow in the heavy silence of the room. The grey light that filtered through the bedroom window, showed John’s hunched over silhouette, as he sat, hands clasped and resting on his elbows, on the edge of the bed, the satin beneath him crumpled and dishevelled. Hours earlier, he had kicked off his shoes and laid on that cover, excited for the evening ahead. He had marvelled at the softness of the sheets. Beneath his numb hands now, they felt like nothing.
Not So Pretty Pink
Pink. A little girl first sees the world from this rose coloured tint. Pink dolls. Pink clothes. Pink room. Pink girl. There is no room for boyish ways in a pink coloured world. Pretty pink must be perfect.