mother

  • there are times I cannot seem to stop myself from messing with what isn’t being said, so then I  have to say out loud another truth Read more

  • There’s poetry inside your head if only you could write it downbefore it disappears And here I am, doing that, thoughI know that when I’m dead and gonesomeone will throw it all away, like uncle did, with grandma’s diaries because he hadn’tliked what he had read, thoughts she’d had but hadn’t kept inside her head, things he Read more