My enemy is the desire to numb. It comes from my sensitive, absorbent nature that sometimes (quite often) leads to my mind feeling too full, too violated, too broken. I make myself sick
An artificial, sweet, chemical smell spell another curb-stone coup Another has graffitied upon the chipped walls Joining the marks of artists past some of which are well crafted and uplifting others are dark,
The other evening a small group of us reflected on hunger and fasting for lent, and I wrote this piece about different hungers: Hunger is drowning in a lake surrounded by water, yet
There is a feeling you get after you have sobbed like you have a bad cold. You struggle to swallow and keep air and saliva down. Often that has happened to me when
Stacked, slanted to form a tower that leans as if built upon a marsh defying sense Bark and fibre call to mind the characters of stories and flames long burned out Dancing with
The Shadows flow away from solid as the slanting light ebbs away; breaking the day. A star strewn rest stands guard and silver orb bobs in the midst creating half-life shadows within the