conciliation concluded in 50 words

what is more heartbreaking, ending a long term love affair or breaking up with a life long friend? walking away from conciliatory relationships, however, is critical to your health and well-being. at some point in each of our lives we come to a point where we have to accept the fact that this is not what it appears to be. and when it’s not truly love, leave.

because #metoo is just too much

i don’t know a woman who doesn’t have a story.  i don’t know a girl who hasn’t had to be brave. i don’t get how anyone is surprised by the pervasiveness of sexual harassment and sexual assault. the idea that so many women and individuals who identify as femme have to once again ‘out’ themselves in order to bring this issue to light, astounds me. it’s time we stop pretending we don’t know this is happening. it’s time we stop faking the funk. it’s time we all say no more. enough. this isn’t the culture we want our children to inherent. this isn’t the culture we want to live in. this isn’t who we are. unless of course, it is.

it is possible to genetically code terror

the impact of america’s peculiar institution of slavery did not end once the south surrendered in 1865. the legacy of slavery can be found even today. it has deep and strange roots. and we do not speak of it. 4 million americans were freed at the end of the civil war. 4 million. yet we do not speak about slavery. we do not think on it. not as a nation. if you ask her america treats it’s slave history like a cold it had once that’s now gone.

this “new” norm makes me retch

my son is ten. yet he has been alive when 5 of the 10 deadliest mass shootings in modern U.S. history occurred. he remembers what happened at fort hood, at sandy hook, in orlando, san bernadino, and now las vegas.

haiku to you

“Haiku” is a traditional form of Japanese poetry. Haiku poems consist of 3 lines. The first and last lines of a Haiku have 5 syllables and the middle line has 7 syllables. The lines rarely rhyme.

an instinctive tap

finally quiet i’d watch sunset outside my kitchen window. cold beer and pen posed over an open journal. incomplete poems littered every page.