I was a writer from the beginning. I was pretending to write a fanciful script well before I could write my name without the odd scribbles. We become writers from the moment we pick up the pen, pencil, crayon, or quill. The need to write, the desire to tell stories are with us always. The shame I have regarding writing… Read more »
I turned 47 a few days ago. After 18 months of intense therapy and struggle to find my lost self, I am discovering the person that I knew when I was younger. Fearless, determined, and confident. I don’t know where I lost her along the way, but I am glad she is back. In 2004, after a lifetime of physical… Read more »
she stood in the nights’ freezing air crying for their love slowly he boarded the bus turning back every step she waved, he smiled love was in her eyes when they pulled away farther than before she had so much faith in her love the tears just streamed down her cheek he vowed to return but no one ever really… Read more »
They don’t see me I live in the shadow of her memory When I speak, it’s her words they hear I scream I plead; I rage against them There is nothing; it’s futile to try. I am not her living memory – I am me She was once, but now I am Not dishonoring her, I am just me Plainly… Read more »
I get up before anyone else in my household, not because sleep has deserted me in my advancing years, but because an intense eagerness to live draws me from my bed. In the same way, I drop off every night with a kind of secret satisfaction as I think of the day to come, even if it is likely to… Read more »