Author Archives: Isabella LeCour

About Isabella LeCour

She is nothing more than the collections of thoughts placed into the virtual worlds. She is a poet, a mother, a lover, many things to different people. But mostly, she is nothing but smoke and mirrors - some ethereal thing that blinks in an out of existence.

What is hope?

As I laid down to sleep a snippet of a thought drifted in. Hope was a flower. And then I fell into dreams. I named a flower hope and watched it bloom and then wilt before my eyes. It brought … Continue reading

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , ,

A story of bricks.

I woke up from a dream about bricks. I feel like I’m a well that someone suddenly with fury tossed in a ton of bricks. I dreamed of him again. This time, he drew a line in the sand between … Continue reading

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Returning to Buttercup fields

Photo on Best Running I have always loved flawed human beings. Their frailties hide their strengths. I was not raised in a home where love was a vital force nor was it strong enough to be felt. I’m not sure … Continue reading

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How do I say…

mitä jos meil ois toinen elämä, What if we had an another life joku muu jonka vierestä herätä. Someone else to wake up next to Kelaatko koskaan, Do you ever think about miten se sanotaan. How does one say it … Continue reading

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Sam and Lucy go to the beach.

My daughter melted down in front of me, facing a case of stage fright on paper. Second grade English homework-write a story about two kids going to the beach. Sounds pretty easy, eh. Tears and hyperventilating later, both of which I … Continue reading

Posted in Motherhood

We need to talk.

It’s not often I feel the pull of the stars in my life. This cycle around it is pulling hard and not pulling any punches with me in my life. If anything, it makes a decent non-corporal scapegoat. March 6th had … Continue reading

Posted in Life, Sexuality | Tagged , , , , ,

It’s been weird lately. It’s not just you.

The 6th of March arrived like a fire tornado, burning the underbrush everywhere it touched. My life was turned inside out in a matter of hours. Things that had been hidden were now, painful, revelled. And I, I suspect like … Continue reading

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