its in the birth of an ending and the death of a beginning a slap issued a cry that’s stifled these are the things we cannot undo the things that leave us undone a hand that never enfolds an i that doesn’t conclude with sorry it is a love that was never truly found or…
My iLife: A Reflection on Missed Connection
I use to have a life but then I got an iPhone and Facebook account and my life became virtual. I’ve stopped talking on the phone practically altogether although in truth I was never really a telephone chatterer. It’s just easier to text or send an email and inboxing someone is damn near instant message….
Things that Cannot Be Undone
“I can’t do this.” He is driving the car. In the passenger seat, she turns and notices he has begun to cry. “What? What can’t you do?” Her hand is steady but her heart beats faster. “I just can’t do this…” he is shaking. “Pull over.” She looks out the window searching for a spot…
anger management inappropriate resolution #17
i use to be angry screaming explicatives from stages going into rages over simple things like i wasn’t hugged enough or you standing there chewing that gum i would tell people with great accusation my grandmother’s grandmother was a slave and i would holler indigently at retorts about migration and infinite servitude i had no…
a writer comes of age
…it means you are a slave to the words bursting forth from your mind… 7 years old / what do you want to be when you grow up, he asked me. a writer, i answered. 8 years old / i sit for hours my legs cross eagle and numb, pencil in hand diligently scribbling on…
19 months later nightmares revealed (when you make a promise you have to keep it)
Beginning / It is 2 am. His palms are sweating clutching at my hands. He is crying into my shoulder. A mousetrap sits directly behind him and I keep holding him so that he won’t set it off. I am determined not to be afraid. “What did you say bitch!” We hear the screams. We jump…
motherhood: a molecular transformation
be willing to die everyday to the person you think you, to hand the wave back to the ocean…(Arjuna Arday) motherhood changed me at a molecular level. it restructured my dna. there was a moment in time when i was wanda – woman fully grown and in charge of my destiny. i was capable and…
biology is the least of what makes someone a man (586 words of gratitude: love prose)
i grew up surrounded by men, my family large: my mother born number 5 in a sibship of twelve and my father number 2 in a brotherhood of six. two men parented me, or at least attempted, one i called daddy, the other i introduce as dad. my grandfathers i idealized and adored. my brothers…
not since the extermination of the Jews by the nazis
i was folding laundry the day rwanda invaded my living room the smell of bleached white boxers warm from the dryer fills the air on screen africans murdering africans murdering africans caught in a daze my own fantasy land playing house yet not grown in the background he stood laughing on the phone rwanda i say that’s nowhere the reply…
The Only Virgin he Knew
“You ready to die over this pussy?” She stares him directly in his eye, one bottle in each hand. “Cause I am.” he’s not use to this, they’ve never jumped at him before, never raised their hand to him. Uncertain, he squats and returns her gaze. he’s use to fear. Fear he understands. Fear he…
fearfree living 