There is a form to my flesh, a color to my skinI am a base I fuse with words, attach to me I push down whispers of identity that come aching, hours into the night Wolves and owls, A life with wolves and owls I cry beneath the moon I so fondly refer to as sweet … Continue reading Sweet Luna
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This morning I dreamed of an old memory--a woman I have long forgotten. At twenty-two years old, I watched over an elderly woman during her last month of life. She reminded me of my grandmother who died of cancer when I was nine. The morphine in my grandmother's system made her irresponsive conversationally but not … Continue reading Dreams and Old Memories
Wishes are those conversations that no one plans to make a reality. The person who says, "Wouldn't this be a great idea?" Except this person has those ideas twenty times a day. Wishes are okay as long as one realizes that they are indeed wishes. I used to want to be a figure skater and … Continue reading Wishes
I wanted to be wanted, I never wished to feel alone.Now I'm addicted and alone is all I know.Reprimanded for speaking out the truth, The scapegoat for their lies. Cyclical nature in this repetitive play.Tired from the battle, want to run away.Jogging on treadmills,There is no getting off. See the sunshine in my suffering,I may … Continue reading A Letter to You
Her name was Agatha. Agatha was raised in the midwest. She was poor with a small family who sold cherries when they were in season. Agatha went door to door late into the night asking people to buy her cherries. She was exceptionally beautiful for her age. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes … Continue reading Agatha, The Unknown Artist
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Truth, void of delusion Delusion contained in mind trick illusion Sent to protect day to day In the process, intimacy wanes Think Choice Indoctrinated plays Glance the clock Memories fade Re-write history Delusion smiles Men get sick Truth thumps the heart Delusion stops the tick _____________________________________ Image by msandersmusic from Pixabay
When my brother died, I screamed everywhere. I screamed in my car, my house, anywhere I could and for up to an hour at a time. I read the memoir, "Once More we Saw Stars," and felt a companionship to the writer as he described his screaming sessions after he lost his two year old … Continue reading He Died on a Bed.
I catch a comely sparkle in the eyes of a smile with no notion of the soul fervent for recognition. Its as if I've become a spineless mind. Spines are of no use for those who don't stand; they do fine laying twisted in straw beds sharing not a scent of fight, embellishing in all … Continue reading Moving with Time
“Talk to me," he brushed the hair out of her face. She looked down, “No, you can never know.” He reached out to hold her but she pulled away. “ I don’t know what to do for you, I never knew how to make you happy.” Tears formed in his eyes, she could hear the … Continue reading Red Lipstick
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