Ok. 2019.

The year opened its eyes lazily, slowly. Unfurling itself in a violet-tinged haze that seemed to want to hang onto 2018 in an attempt to make things right before letting go. Before I could snap to, the year had already kicked my butt in a tense final goodbye. The year started with an unbelievable sadness. Joy had been driven from these streets and as the fireworks went off and the countdown began, gleefully for some, there was a bit of melancholic indulgence and looking back in wonder at how 2018 was survived. Continue reading


Walking Wounded

I met a man with a broken heart. His eyes, if you looked closely, were sad. He dropped the veil as I looked at him, my own tears threatening to erupt. I realized there are many people walking around wounded. I was not the only one.

His dance moves hid the pain etched within him. As much as he later told me his heartbreak was over and done with, you could still see the scabs of where this wound had festered. His smile was not as wide as it could be, his face not as devoid of emotion as he thought.

He held my hand in his, stroking his thumb over mine in a mindless but repetitive motion that seemed to say it would all be okay. For anyone who knows me, a show of tenderness is my Achilles’ heel; I felt the tears well up, tiptoe to the edge of my eyes and, as much as I internally threatened them, fall over and trip over themselves getting to my chin. I looked down, looked up in vain. No amount of blinking could stop them from their southbound journey. Continue reading

The Stain of Silence

You stole my voice,

smothered it silent,

reaching deep within me

to strangle it dead.

This you-caused stain

seeps deep, over and around

the broken pieces within,

keeping the flatline alive

and soaking sinking deeper

with every promptly delivered

broken promise

and veil of invisibility

that you forcefully drape over me

and that only serves to fan and set

this stain.


Most Beautiful

When the rain is coming down so hard,

you can barely see past your nose,

and the clouds hanging over you are so gray

that they look like jet black puddles of broken smears…

When the thunder of your own thoughts clashes and clangs,

drowning out the lightning spearing out of your heart,

and the cold from without is wrapping firmly and tightly

around within and across what’s left of your joy…

you must remember

you must recall

where once it resided,

cushioned by faith and

buoyed by self-love,

it will resurface.

And you will be alright,

you will rise.