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.