‘Gently, My Mother’ is a small poem I wrote on a sunny Friday which made me miss my own quite terribly.
Tag: bodies
The Algorithm For Happiness (Part 1):
When life slips down the hill, Katie and I often turn to each other and ask each other the same question: What is the point? With our feet slipping, trying to stop everything from falling, our arms aching and our bodies covered in mud, we scream WHAT IS THE POINT IN TRYING SO HARD?