Some clarity on this one before we start. There was a really really bad -- Nope, know what? We'll just stick with the chorus: And it feels like angry And it feels like sad And it feels like frustrated And it feels like mad And I don’t even get this s****. If that last word … Continue reading And it feels like angry.
Claws scrape at my heart Harden nails on dusty stone Hugs all fall apart. Just go away and leave me alone. Surrounded by a thousand arms. And not a friendly touch. My mood sets off my alarms. But my anger cares not for such. I’m angry that I’m alone I’m angry about the sound The … Continue reading Mood.
I lay quietly on my bunk in the old maintenance room. The bunk is a springy affair. A metal framed monstrosity that looks like it belonged in some 1920 tuberculosis ward. The mattress doesn’t even reach the full length of the springs. Stopping about a foot short of the frame. I let my feet hang … Continue reading A story.
It's almost 10. Might as well be midnight. 4 am wake-up and I'm up and listening in a quiet terrified way to my son breathing. He had large tonsils and the cold he has isn't helping. What can I do? Take him worried to a room full of sick people and get told he just … Continue reading Sick Child
Emotions are effervescent and feelings eternal; or something else pseudo-profound. I write because others capture emotion and thought and purpose in a way that I dearly wish to. Like every generation we struggle with things that seem uncertain and enormous and scary and exciting. I want to capture that feeling. To let my children know … Continue reading On emotion.