I’m actually sitting here with a tear pouring down my cheeks and can barely see the screen. Part of my reason for starting this site was to have a place to talk about my pain. It has been sixteen years (!) since I have lived more than a week of a pain-free existence.
a moment that
like incense smoke rising
lazing on the breeze
becoming infinite as it fades
integrating its essence with the air
the air that is all there is
the air that is as abundant as love
love could be
around the corner from me
and i wont lie
he’s considerate and sweet
kind and he listens when i speak.
he’s good looking and back in high school
a good friend.
everyone remembers a time when there was
more hand holding
more slow dancing
and less violence.
What I used to do, what I used to love to do, was write poetry. Not poetry in the traditional, Emily Dickenson sense of the word, nor was it quite Def Jam material, though I am in that book they made, Bum Rush the Page.