Dear Home, I'm sorry I left you, and with you my parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews. My friends. My safety. My me. You were there for me for twenty five years, and I jumped on a plane without thinking for a moment what losing you might mean. I had always been so proud to be … Continue reading Missing You
Ah sure Jaysus. I haven’t seen you in ages!
The cowardly black shroud has lifted. I know not fully. Not for good. It has pulled itself off my head, shoulders, core, arms and legs. I has dropped to the floor. It could easily trip me up. I can likely get back up however. I am not cloaked and choked. Something funny happened this morning. … Continue reading Ah sure Jaysus. I haven’t seen you in ages!
On the Wearing of the Poppy
* This article began as one covering my thoughts of the British tradition of wearing the poppy. It splintered off in several different directions. I will leave the title as is. Now the sun shines down on the green fields of France a warm summer wind makes the red poppies dance The trenches have vanished … Continue reading On the Wearing of the Poppy
Shooting the Heart of America
Synagogue shooting? What was that? They're coming so fast that they're shoving each other out of our minds. Is that the plan? Make it so normal that we no longer care? We no longer register each atrocity? It IS normal now. It happens too quickly for us to register. What happened where? I can't remember. … Continue reading Shooting the Heart of America
Up and Down
Down, down, down again. A vertical merry go round. Seemingly going ever so slowly at its nadir. Crawling back to its zenith. Plunging down to the nadir again. Why is it so favored? That low point? Why can it not stay up high for a little longer. A little break from down there. Up here … Continue reading Up and Down
Scrap Scrape
I want to break free. I want it to be past. Not present. Not future. I did it again. In the present. The present four hours ago. It didn't hurt enough. Will I want to do it again? It did not fulfill whatever I wanted it to. What did I want it to do? I … Continue reading Scrap Scrape
Rocking Ball
* This story contains themes of severe depression and suicide Cara sat on the floor. Her arms around her knees. Taking the form of a ball. Rocking from front to back. Over and over. The rhythm was calming. Maybe. Who knows? She didn't. She just kept on rocking. It would take more effort to think … Continue reading Rocking Ball
