Spirit Walk

Nicole brings a poem of transformation.

Nicole Lyons

The road is long, it’s veiled in mist,
the stars are cloaked tonight.
The pins in my feet
spun the needle in my compass,
now I have lost my way.
I walk alone with eyes wide shut,
stumbling over things unseen.
The plains are hills, the hills are plains
and nothing is what it seems.
Into the forest, among the trees
where cities used to be,
the wild women come to show me the way,
mauling grizzlies that eat my dreams.
Now with eyes wide open
I walk with my sisters
stumbling over what used to be me.

© Nicole Lyons 2016

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A Savage Release

Nicole spins out words into a movie in the mind.

Nicole Lyons

My thoughts have turned
from racing to raging
to beasts beating
their great wings
against the cool shadows
in my mind.
With swollen bellies
full of fire they come
screeching,
bursting flames
upon the walls
of my restraint
until the peace I had
honeyed and hidden away
gushes forth and quenches them
into submission once more.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

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Permanence

Howl Davies writes of depression and motivation being where you find it, for instance, here.

The Sounds Inside

Sometimes I have bad days.

Sometimes I have bad weeks, sometimes bad months. Sometimes it lasts longer. I don’t question it any more, nor do I wish it didn’t happen. I can trace the first time I felt like this back to when I was twelve years old. My mother died when I was an infant, and my father remarried.  I was too young to have any memory of my mother, and believed my father’s second wife to be my mother. One day when I was twelve she disappeared. She left one day while I was at school. She left without a word. I lay in the bathtub for hours trying to work out why she did that.

I have been told by many doctors that I have severe depression, but being told that doesn’t really mean that much. When it is something that becomes a staple part of your existence…

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Dear Men bitching about Wonder Woman, shut the fuck up.

Devon seems to be planning on seeing a movie.

A Letter To Everyone Hurting Me Right Now

Veronike writes a letter such as too many I have known might have written. Please, people, if you love someone with a mental, or any, illness, or recovering from trauma, or working to get clean and sober, whatever trouble, SHOW UP.

I wish Bloggers weren’t such fucking assholes

Devon is on a true and righteous rant about fake Amazon book reviews and other internet rudeness, and defending her friend, Rachel, who I agree is awesome.

6 Signs That You Might Not Really Respect Your Transgender Loved One

Sam explores some of the, sometimes subtle, difficulties and mistakes of family members and others in relation to transgendered people.

Let's Queer Things Up!

Originally published on Everyday Feminism.

When I first came out as transgender, I was surprised to find that many people in my life wanted to support me. I received a lot of encouraging words, often from the folks I least expected.

It meant the world to me to be surrounded by people who just wanted me to be myself and be happy! In a society that can often be so hostile towards transgender people, having loved ones in our corner can make all the difference.

But I quickly realized that there’s a distinction between stating your support and actually respecting my identity. A lot of people talked the talk – but that didn’t always translate when it came to actions.

I wanted to be patient with my loved one because I knew it was a learning process for everyone. But as time went on, some problematic behaviors never seemed…

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Why We Fight: Letter From Publisher #MemorialDay

Shareen pens a story of strength as reminder that citizenship is not a status, but an activity, actions.

I received a letter from the Office of Justin Trudeau, and all it proves is that he doesn’t find Child Sex Trafficking and Abuse, an interesting enough war to help fight.

The PM of Canada, or some functionary in his office, has pissed of Devon.

Forcibly divorced

Sue has been betrayed by her grocer.

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

I have a complaint. It is Bank Holiday here, so, in need of provisions and with a sudden desire for apricots, I was obliged to go to the supermarket. I don’t do it often. It depresses me. But that isn’t the complaint…

I really didn’t need much; it was mainly the dog who needed supplies, but I thought I would grab some fresh stuff while I was there…you know, a few vegetables, some fruit…nothing out of the ordinary. Wandering round the produce section, the temperature began to rise.

I live alone and, in spite of the recalcitrant waistline, I eat very little. There are only so many portions of anything that I can eat and many summer fruits and vegetables do not keep well. I learned to shop for fresh produce in France, where ingredients are taken seriously and shopping is a tactile exercise. I can feel ripeness and…

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