Long shadows of two people standing side by side. The shadows are in an expanse of sand.

Waking with Sand on My Skin

This afternoon, I read through a book of my handwritten poems from 2005 to today. I read them backwards, and when I got to October of 2005, I found this: You’ll never know what the discovery of that day means to a sleepy traveler hoping to wake up with sand on her skin… Sleepy indeed. I spent last semester reacquainting myself with teaching introductory psychology … Continue reading Waking with Sand on My Skin

Forever

Sometimes I wonder if you can see me If you’re watching If you’re worrying If you’re proud. Often I hope that you can hear me Talking to you about my hopes My dreams And your role in making them clear In giving me courage. Always I miss you. I want to call you To visit you To get the hug I know Will never come … Continue reading Forever

Sometimes You Just Have to Write About Getting Punched in the Face

I’d rather be punched in the face than endure the fake smiles, the winks, nudges, and whispers. I’d rather you take a hard, heavy hand and knock out what sanity I have left. Take a swing, and with it spill my blood, externally, break my bones. For I’d rather you knock me to the ground with a direct blow than prop me up with lies … Continue reading Sometimes You Just Have to Write About Getting Punched in the Face