EMDR
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She stands in the hush before thought becomes breath, her presence gathered from shadow, warmth, and stillness The water holds her like a private hymn; reeds, dusk, and weathered light keep their distance, as here is something old in her composure Something Gothic in the way silence clings to her, although the air around her… Read more
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Pocket Thoughts To the one who learned to smile while dying inside. Your fawning is not weakness. It is a survival strategy. It kept you alive. Yet, it does not have to run your life forever. When the urge to please gets loud, pause; Put a hand on your chest. Feel your feet on the… Read more
