I am made of red brick, with a smoke patinafrom when I decide to belch smoke back into the housejust for fun. The girl in this house, she loves me.She loves to lay on the floor, watching the colors in the fire.Sometimes adding little wax color pots, she makes in egg...
A short poem written in my mother's voice, talking to me from heaven. Dear little Sammy, I think of you nowHow I managed to raise you I will never know how Although you were born into a world of deep shameI loved you and gave you your grandfather’s name There were...
The tree of my life, a mystery to me My branches haven't all yet grown I've got to go through these growing pains But wouldn't I already know? I'm beautiful the way I grow I look at myself Just then a new leaf grows I swiftly evolve, I change I look again and an old...
What a terrible space to live in being Gaslighted from the person you believe in... It starts off being innocent but the person becomes more diligent...I know what I see, I know what I heard but the look on their faces reflect absurd...Beginning to build up emotional...
32 years ago, I wrote this poem… Giving this crib to friends for their coming baby had been the very first step to acknowledge the fact that my husband and I would never have a baby together. I had begun to be depressed, and to drink to endure the loss of my illusions...
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