Tag Archives: Writer

Loops

I call them loops.They loop around my braincausing me to question.When things are badI push through, when thingsare good, I delusionally thinkthey can always be this way,that my emotions aren’t severelyimpacted if I know this levelof calm. It’s a lie I fall myself,every single time and without fail,I am reminded of the power my bodypossesses,Continue reading “Loops”

Growing Up

Growing up is learning how toconnect the mind to the body.These strange days are filled withdelicate daydreams and mind games.I follow the moon but find the sun,listen to the waves constantly telling meto love myself for who I am and how I see,how I am not trying to be someone I’m not,only someone I canContinue reading “Growing Up”

Something So Lovely

You loved your garden.You were always so proudof the flowers that bloomed.So much so you would pick oneto show me then put it ina small vase on the kitchen tablethen remark for dayshow beautiful your flower wasand how extraordinary it wasthat something so lovelycould grow from the groundbecause of your love and care.You were soContinue reading “Something So Lovely”

Tiny Dancer

Lives interconnect with a single song,a classic onebrings back memories good and badwhen moments occurred that were out of their controlwhere destiny calls could not be ignoredrolling down California roads watching the sun fall below the seaa tune comes blasting through space a reminder of what was,what is, what is no longer hereone person’s negativityContinue reading “Tiny Dancer”

Carwash

Turkeys fly into the trees,wobbling on the branchesas they settle into the night.The nor’easter windskeep me up — sounds of childhoodgoing through the carwashrush through my mindas I hear water being slammedat the windows, except nothingis being cleaned.A never-ending carwashcontinues throughoutthe night, getting louderjust as I almostdrift into sleep.

anchor

Writing is my anchorin the sand.What keeps me afloatwhen the ocean of my mindbecome choppy.What tethers meto the planetwhen I’m floatingup in space.The grounding space,the safe place.Giving me clarity in these trying times.Through the lines,I write with messyscribbles. I returnhome to me,again,and again,and again….