I am unexpected. I am an out of wedlock pregnancy that solidified a union. I am a gentle kick inside my mother’s womb on her wedding day. I am the stiff upper lip as the word divorce falls upon me, wide eyed and stoic. I am a child silently hovering in the garage watching my …
Grief is not limited to the months After funerals. The psychic corpses that litter my mind outweigh the physical corpses I have held in my hands. These corpses can include — Letting go of the sister I always wanted First years of life stolen by depression No soft hands on my back as a child …
This house we built With no bad touches And full bellies, Lights that are on Water that is running: May not be enough. A warm embrace, Nourishing meals together, Lights intended for bedtime stories, Cozy bubble baths: a good start. My own wellness, Food consciousness, Light that intentionally casts shadows Weeping alone in the tub: …
Each crack you chiseled into my foundation The waters of this love have touched And there is no going back now Take back your piecemeal attempts at parenting and marriage, The table upon which I feast is plentiful You are welcome here and I need you to know: Your projections did not break me Your …
As a child, I didn’t want to be bad. So I was good. I accepted the stories that people told me about my father because it was easier to go along with the crowd than it was to stick up for the underdog. I disregarded my unwavering desire to know and love my father with …