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Showing posts from March, 2018

"The Light of My Dark" A collection of poetry inspired by betrayal

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"The Light of My Dark" Now available on Kindle and in paperback Bitterness is lovely in coffee and females. The pieces in this collection follow the mind of one woman as she struggles through postpartum depression, betrayal and  abandonment, divorce, and a diagnosis of Crohn's Disease. Savage is her past, but now serenity is her only vengeance.

Color Spectrum

My purple is violets, beach sunsets, and grape soda Your purple is the swollen bruise of a trauma that refuses to heal My red is bloody miscarriage remains in my toilet Your red is rosy cheeks on a summer day, candy apples, a glossy lip My blue is dark--the bottom of the sea with no light Your blue is light--the skies in Carolina My green is my therapy that quickly burns brown Your green is a snake in the grass, the mold on old bread My yellow is bile with a side of lemon juice Your yellow is baby chicks in a field of daffodils My orange is Doritos, a clockwork, circus peanuts and Nemo Your orange is sideswiped traffic cones, Cheetos fingers, Presidential My pink is breast cancer awareness, flowers , Steven Tyler's favorite color Your pink is a hairless rat, pepto bismol puke, stepped on bubble gum My brown is explosive taco meat diarrhea. a rabid beaver, a fallen tree Your brown is a beautiful brunette eating chocolate cake beside a teddy bear My black is b

Recycle

If this pen stops moving Would these thoughts be missed Is this writing like plastic Never fading Or more like paper Biodegrading Plastic never breaks down Fake never dies The truth is the first to drown Real never lies The pen lasts longer than the paper In humans and in nature Plastic surgery makes old new Silicone and collagen renew Seasons pass from day to night Truth is always brought into the light Will someone find these words inspiring At just the right moment Recycle them to lighten up their dark Or is it all heading to the trash Heavy rain extinguishing the spark If the purpose is served Matters not All that's left Are words to be forgot

Diagnosis Day

There are certain days in a person's life that alter their existence. A wedding day forever binds one human to another. A funeral forever separates. The birth of a child adds and multiplies love, while the birth of a disease subtracts hope. There are days that we all know for sure are in our future, like the day our parents die, for instance, that devastate and leave you different than the day before. These are the days we don't want to think about but we know are there. There's another day, though, that's never expected. It's diagnosis day. That one always comes as a surprise. I remember being wheeled back into my hospital room after a CT scan, groggy from the suffering and pain medication. A faceless, nameless doctor darkens the threshold and enters the room. "The results are indicative of what we find in patients with Crohn's Disease". There it was. Finally. He continued speaking with my mother, who was sitting just to my left, but I tuned him out

Magma

I wish I was a volcano So it would be more acceptable To blow Both men and my top Let the lustful lava loose Melting those in its wake Let the heat rise Between my thighs A spontaneous eruption Let the steam roll off my back As the ashes bury my past Indiscretions A pyroclastic surge No time to suffocate Corrosive conditions conducive A scorched Earth policy Destroy their assets As Vesuvius did Pompeii Leaving hardened carcasses Instant rigor mortis As an ever present reminder To never throw gas on the embers No one is brave enough To strike the match