brookecutler2
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Asking Questions
It is not the darkness of others I fear. It is my own crimson need to mould the world into a shape that cannot possibly exist, or remain. Perfection is rigid, solid, stiff. Life is the ever flowing river of… Continue reading
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Together
This morning I was taken back to the year 1997, when I sat glued to the television, hoping with all of my everything that a man named Stuart Diver would be rescued from beneath a mountain of rubble — the… Continue reading
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Sweet and Quiet
The sweet and quiet of life is where my soul belongs. The essence of a strawberry. The taste of the softest kiss beneath a swaying tree. It is not all that I am, this sweet and quiet that calls me.… Continue reading
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Heaven on Earth
I am the the trees and the wind. Two melted into one: Body and soul travelling the pink lace road of heaven on earth. Continue reading
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Forgotten
So you’ve forgotten what it feels like to unfold yourself, to undress, her soul in your hands like the dream she was always meant to be for you. Continue reading
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The Novel
Two years ago, before the universe exploded everything around me, I began two very writerly things. One thing was this blog (and what an absolute gift this place has been to me. Writing and a beautiful little band of friends… Continue reading
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The Lolly Shop on Hope Street
The little boy followed the balloon through the Summer streets. He knew nothing of the balloon except that it was red and tied with a glistening blue string: and that he must follow it, wherever the wind might float it.… Continue reading
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Quite Frankly
What is love, you might wish to know. Love, quite frankly, is you. Continue reading
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Open. Release.
But did they give you a box of darkness? Or was the darkness already inside of you. Waiting for someone to press: open. And release. Continue reading
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