its the kind of day a hot shower can’t solve the kind of day when even after everyone is settled the house still feels loud its the kind of day when your mind races at maximum speed but your limbs seem to be locked in slow motion its that day when staying in bed is…
Tag: creative writing
resignation remorse
women hold up half the sky, mao tse-tung i didn’t want you to leave i just needed you to let go to stop squeezing so tight trapping me inside the spaces you don’t want to visit can’t stand to be a part of i wasn’t asking you to leave i was just asking that you let go…
evangelism has its price (how i hated sleeping beauty and refused to be silent about it)
my father was a huge sci fi fan. and he imparted this love for all things scientifically fictional on me. i remember standing in line at the woods theatre for an hour before the first showing of star wars: a new hope. hell i could recite the opening lines of star trek before i could…
the day love walked in and i almost didn’t recognize it
the other day a couple came into my office to speak with me about concerns they have for their child. its a normal occurrence for me, my job is to support parents with concerns about their children. but this meeting was different. i am a diagnostician. i assess situations problems. i assess and in my…
solace
you don’t get to think about it hands over shoulders stretch arms as high as they will go and breath every ounce of stress every care away. repeat.
consumerism and stewardship: can they really co-exist?
an ethic that embodies responsible planning and management of resources, stewardship. i have stuff. lots and lots of stuff. i have so much stuff that my house at time fills overstuffed with stuff. i shift stuff from closet to closet. i invent cubby spaces to house table overflow and shake drawers in awkward attempts to…
veneration, an adornment
these hands bring me mud pies with ant filling and are so sensitive he giggles a bell chiming laugh that feels my heart few have accomplished what he does so effortlessly of elders and matriarchs he commands entire rooms astounded my jaw drops at the magnitude of his appeal favorite son a nomenclature he wears…
teenage dream
like pork chops smothered in peppers and gravy i cling to memories of yesterdays long since gone and think on the scent of apple blossoms and rotten pear trees late summer breezes drift through bedroom windows bring a promise of happily ever after full on media driven romance a heart ripe with promise opens little…
midlife aspirations
wind against my face i race hugging the wall the music behind me the pace i keep my own my first freedom wheels to wood floor sweat pouring down my back i lean into it steady and balanced cute not my agenda i’m going for fierce and strong i race no one in particular one…
fearfree living 