How did I lose sight of everything ( Read more... )

I have started the story. . .Was it time? I know not. I took a bath, the water so hot that the pale imperfected skin was gone, replaced by a vibrant red and blissful pain. I let the water suffocate me, burn me until I could no longer keep myself under. . .But with my first breath I knew the beginning and the end of my story. I did not allow ( Read more... )

For the first time in months I actually have a story idea brewing in my mind. . .I know I should sit down and write it, but it does not seem quite the right time. . .Then again, if I wait too long, I may lose the artistic drive to write it. Plans for this coming Saturday have been distracting me from inspecting the turmoil within me. . .It seems ( Read more... )

Chewing slowly, lightning in my mouth and violence in my heart, pondering thoughts that threaten the quiet sighing of the soul. My emphasis was lost between darting eyes and deafened ears, my innocence compromised by self infliction, and the settling which prompts God to turn his gaze. Somewhere rests the forbidden door ajar and the child inside ( Read more... )

~Sips a weird concoction of tea, lemon, honey, rosemary, and whiskey. . .Wrinkles nose at the taste of it~ Why is when you feel horrible, people only give you horrible things to drink and eat? ~More grumbling and sipping ( Read more... )

Feeling deprived and blessed at the same time, she sat alone. A scarred hand covered her face to mask the grief and desolation; a comparatively unwounded hand pressed gently over her womb, protecting the innocent and answer to secret prayers. Forcing air into her lungs, she knew it was time to pull herself together, cut and paste what she could ( Read more... )

I am the eight year-old sitting in the tub, surrounded by broken pieces of glass, blood pooling beneath her young body all over again; the weight of the world on my shoulders, the weight of guilt and love upon my chest. I am the confused girl, staring into the dark comfort of death. I am the lonely girl, torn from her house and from her ( Read more... )

My grandfather was loved, was he not? I do not know. . .My family could afford to honor him, preserve him in some respect, but they chose not to. All my grandmother wanted to do was kiss him goodbye, but his physical body had decomposed so much in less than 2 days without preservation that she could not do that. My grandmother, my sister, and I ( Read more... )

The man who raised me, the only man I ever comfortably called my father passed away September 1st 2004. I loved him as I loved a precious few. He taught me so many things. . .He taught me the value of music, to fight for love, to put selfishness aside, and the importance of milk to name a very few. This was our song, we sang it together from the ( Read more... )

I have chased the rainbow. . .I have witnessed its declining arch and prayed with my entire being that I would not find the end. Aaron was right, to see what is at the end of the rainbow you do bave to say goodbye. I bid him farewell and at my feet is the cold iron cauldron at the base of the prism. It is not a razor or a bottle of pills as I ( Read more... )