Posted in Poetry

Devil in the details: confessions of her struggle

Do you have anything
to say? I do. I guess this is
how I am. Everything
reappearing. Voices

and images, people who
hate me. Real to me.
Can you see? At least
I had a few  years  of living.
Images I hoard

letting roots grow. Sometimes
emerging behind my eyes
and other times a silent movie
unfolding, capturing me.
I want to talk

To you. No one else
wants to know. I can’t
blame them. I don’t as well.
Once upon a time i
thought I could be that
person gathering people’s thoughts.
Now I gaze
too deep

I have no bone to lift me.
I have you and I have
him and he needs me. He
can’t be a thinker and
just wants me to be dead.
If he knew my thoughts
he would leave. I can’t
bear to know I am the slayer.

I do listen. To you. I don’t like
knowing I am lost.

Posted in Poetry


morning emerges
slowly unfolding ruby
blistering later.

crashing darkness bangs
spitting out stars and swallows
a weary night calms.

withering blanket
invisible white on white
marks vibrant patterns.

Posted in Poetry


Reckon the memories tick, tock.
She occupies herself with texture
weaving through the halls.
Melody immovable I urge
burst open the vault.
A forsaken wasteland grows weaker.
Our smiles reveling
connecting in the fruity verve.
Years converging
she lives safely in her mind.