People

When we write, we write with the hardest hearts, singed raw with pride, but when we grieve, those hearts soften, and words become tears cascading down rough contours and jagged edges. What’s written isn’t felt when hands mechanically type, but when it’s felt, despair cloaks us, and we wish for idyllic unknowns and peaceful reveries….

this hole in me

part of me is missing maybe you know where it is? every morning i wake up knowing it’s another day feeling lost that it is another day another day another night i go to bed knowing that my morning my next day will bring more of the same & i want to scream sometimes i…

Ode to a Rat

Weekly prompt: oil, flicker, darkness In honor of my daughter’s pet rat, Menchies, who passed away at age 2 on 7/21/18. What she teaches me is lovingunderdogs, misunderstood,associated with the plague,eating left out food,hiding out in the crevicesof walls within a home,baited to their deaths,disdained among rodents she cares for each creation,spiders, bees, crickets, grasshoppers,aware…

Depths

Like ink and blood spill from my pen, lackluster in their shaping of the words upon my tongue and lips, within my mind, the buried depths, transported here to bide their time, creep into parts of my real life, stories recalled, truths to be told, delusions of what to expect; puffy eyes, puffy lips, vacate…

Eulogies

Eulogies written once a year, Often more, too many, Inspired by shadow filled holidays, And feeling an emptiness so potent That it paralyzes us at times, Because there’s a lifetime of words To be said about the grief of a loved one, Infinite stories that will never be enough. And we write, because we have…

Comedienne

I feel like crying ’til a drought is claimed, every pound I’m losing feels like naked truth every fear I’m feeling seeping through my skin manifesting clearly on my unveiled face only in the mirror staring back at me to everyone else I seem convinced so sure of each step, unfaltering will no sign of…

12:12 am

Waking up, I realize he’s not here, again. I find him on the bedroom floor, not sure what time he came in. Last night, a few words were exchanged, he had more important things to do, a game had started he had to finish, or pixel points would be taken away. He poked his head in…