brookecutler2

  • Life and Death

    I visited Nan, today. Beautiful Nan— she could light up a room just by looking at it, and all of us could feel her joy from a mile away. No wonder the cemetery she lives at feels so beautiful to me.… Continue reading

  • The Land In-between

    The matrix rages beneath the skin and I am trapped. So this is the land in-between. The rose unfurls beneath a skin that longs to fall, yet the chipped paint of a girl gone by tethers me to yesterday. A… Continue reading

  • Old Man

    The old man rolls out of bed at 9:45am, his silver hair dishevelled, his eyes at the watery edge of blue. He finds the girl on the couch. He says, ‘I just got back from my run and swim. I… Continue reading

  • Facing the Truth

    I stopped and I said to myself: I am in pain. I did not try to hide it. Or justify its reasons. I did not try to pretend the hurting wasn’t there, or as true as it truly was to… Continue reading

  • Holding Space

    We ate. We laughed. We drank wine. And then we sat under the moon and talked about life and love, about nature and the universe and how it all feels so magical and huge, sometimes. We talked about everything there… Continue reading

  • My Tribe

    To my dear bloggy friends, I’m sorry it’s been so long since I checked in here with my actual voice. Truthfully, I’ve felt quite stuck in place, and really unable to move many places outside of the muddy waters of… Continue reading

  • Unrealistic Expectations

    Never would you ever expect a block of chocolate to fit into a jelly mould. Humans. Can’t live with ’em. Can’t eat ’em. Continue reading

  • Stuck

    When I felt the stuck of you, I knew you needed to move. The mud in the air around you as you tap tap tapped away told the story of a stuck girl. Getting the job done, wishing you were… Continue reading

  • Princess

    When I was a princess, all I wanted was to be a girl. Continue reading

  • True Colour

    We stand together observing a leaf as it floats in the pond of life. We watch its path together, and yet our eyes will never know the same leaf. And isn’t that the true colour of life. Continue reading