Tag: Daughter

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…

Grown Ass Man Issues

The first time I was called a “whore” was by my father. I was a preteen girl, not old enough to understand the word’s definition. My mother had always told me we were Pentecostals. Some people said we were ‘holy rollers.’ No one had ever told me I was a “whore,” until that youthful summer day. When my father yelled…

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