Welcome & Thank You For Stopping By!

"Here's to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes... the ones who see things differently -- they're not fond of rules... You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can't do is ignore them because they change things... they push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do." Steve Jobs

They Call Us Crazy

He likes me when I’m on mute. When I agree and nod, letting his stories bolster a self esteem we both know doesn’t exist. He likes me swallowing pills. Regulated by their chemicals, delicately balancing forth the rage and upheaval created in memories. I don’t have the control over the memories. The tiny shrapnel stuck eternally in my crevasses. I…

The Dead Ends

The box tells me the color is ‘Rose Gold’. It permeates those strong salon fumes, a bleaching chemical smell. I let it sit an extra 10 minutes. My hair grabs red, at least these are the words hairdressers have told me throughout my lifetime. Picks it up. Fast. Won’t let go. I wash and condition. Take my skinny comb and…

It’s Not The Same

It’s all boiled down to one life. Not mine. My life only leaves tiny footprints for future generations. I’m keenly aware of where and how I walk. Words have impact. Mine can cut sharper than a sword. Tonight, I hope they will. Because I’m tired of being told to sit. Shush. Quiet. Just overlook what we don’t like to see.…

Merry Christmas, Ya Filthy Animals: Oprah’s Favorite Things

People like to use the email address I have provided on this page to ask one question: “Will I review their shit?” It says upfront I don’t write reviews. The reason my email address is public is because I want a literary agent. If you’re a literary agent, I want YOU for Christmas. You can email me at the address…

Burn The Bed

I want to burn my bed. Yes, the entire white queen sized bed. All of it. Poof. Gasoline. Flames. I’d smile. I’d grin. I’d rejoice at watching THAT bed burn. Alas, I’m not strong enough to drag it downstairs. The headboard is heavy. The mattress is awkward. The box spring won’t bend. There are stairs. I certainly can’t set it…

A Thousand Little Cuts

Netflix is the only noise breaking through the silent room. The man on the Netflix original series, Mindhunter, says the words: “Marriage is a thousand little cuts.”  I speak out. I agree with him. Bloodletting love where we go into a relationship completely naive and our eyes are closed. We wear a veil for a reason, because the truth isn’t…

And She Wrote On…

She stopped writing. No rhyme. No real reason. She stopped, because it’s the one thing she could control; those words. Her legs are shaking, they tremble with unknown fear. The leaves are crunching as a junkie coughs and walks down the alley next to her house. Let. It. Go. It’s all dying away….           The dead season is…

15 Years His Wife: The End

I’ve danced long enough with metaphors and hints. I circled and paced, eating my hands bloody. The truth is not beautiful and I will not give you splendid adjectives along with breathtaking scenery tonight. My time has come. Let me out of this cage, I rage. You’ve read the good. The facade, and as I type these words I realize…

%d bloggers like this: