Brown Recluse

I am a Brown Recluse...
hidden in the furthest corners of my room.
Here, I web and weave, but no longer play.
I watch the sun rise and fall, every single day.

I observe in silence, with careful attention,
still hoping for some kind of holy redemption.
But there’s no use—no reason to play.
I’ve reached dangerous levels of harm,
for anyone who wanders my way.

I am a Brown Recluse...
tucked deep where no one can see,
protecting what’s left of my broken legs,
and brewing venom quietly inside of me.

For those who listen between the lines.
Elaine Degro

Grieving in Silence

I am sitting quietly, grieving in silence. My hands rest neatly in my lap. My new bangs hide my swollen eyelids. My fingers — raw from being picked at — tell on me. I look out the window, tempted to publicly shame you. But I don’t. I won’t. So I

Look for the Moms

None of us asked for this version of the world. But here we are. So we teach our children how to move through it... where safety lives, where it doesn’t, and who to call for when fear rises. Mothers have always been the quiet network. The watchers. The ones

Softness

There is a softness inside me that I wish I could share with the world. But I learned very early on that softness is an open door for those who want to come in and wreak havoc on my soul. One time, I was extra soft. I showed someone the

Gypsy

I was a gypsy in your winds. But now I've settled into something I didn’t know I was supposed to become. Secretly…between you and me… I feel trapped. The darkness that once empowered me is trickling away, and all I once was is no longer welcome.

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Grieving in Silence

Look for the Moms

Softness

Gypsy