there are those who read “survivor” and instead only see only hear “victim” who deem me “damaged” incapable of a “normal” life there are days
Tag: #tbt
Requiem for Wonder Woman
reached for basic black today red, blue and gold hang untouched in the closet lasso of truth forlorn in the corner too heavy for these
Insubstantial
I can feel the fading as color washes out of me I grow transparent insubstantial my feet no longer make contact with the ground I
Waltz of Spirits
the floor stretches before me black and white checkerboard tile feet glide soundlessly to the waltz in my head my arms arched as if partnered
Here I Stand
This is an autobiographical fragment from my first year at the University of Pennsylvania’s School of Social Policy and Practice back in 1990. For those who
This Room is Not for Rent
the Greek chorus has declared me damaged beyond repair incapable of a “normal” life “better off dead” say the well-meaning citizens than “broken” preferring the
From Night to Morning (Antologie)
notes on the piano haunting half steps like spring rain on my heart gentle at first soothing becomes a melody of blue melancholy penetrates deeply erodes defenses
Loss is an Ocean
I stand on the shore of an ocean named loss my eyes always drawn to the horizon scanning encroaching fog for the outlines of those
Mementos
I keep you in a basket at the foot of my bed that I can grab quickly in case of fire or other emergency you
