About the work
Support can feel like a tether before it feels like a gift. Held sits in the surrender of being cared for and relinquishing control.
The poem
She was surrounded by warmth, breath tickled her neck, vines tightened and stabilized. The heaviness was constant, and she surrendered to the comfort. This time, she knew… she wasn’t suffocating in someone else’s prison. But she wasn’t free. This time, she was held.
