“I opened my shirt. My chest. Opened doors and cabinets, windows.
Opened skin, opened thighs. I’ve said it honest as I know how:
‘This is me. This is all. Isn’t much. I am heart and breath and skin and bleed.
Sometimes tornado, sometimes lullaby.’”— Bridge Song (excerpt), by: Jeanann Verlee (via persephonesgirlhood)