Emotional Health

Day 356: A Love Letter to My 30’s

This entry is part 8 of 8 in the series: This Is 39 You were the decade that made me a wife. Again. A better wife this time. This time I...

Continue reading

The Male Psyche: Trying To Not Be a Dick

This entry is part 3 of 21 in the series: Bert's Eye View So, after some serious introspection, I’m beginning to figure out a few things...

Continue reading

Grief: Whose Business is it?

Originally published on November 20, 2014 “So Your Mom Died 2 Years Ago? It’s Time To Move On.” In October of 1986, when I was 11...

Continue reading

“I Love You, Daddy”

I admit it; it’s true. I’m far too sensitive for a grown man. At any given moment, I could easily find myself whimpering, sniffling or...

Continue reading

Dear Sir

Originally published on Jan 25, 2016 “There was a flower in her heart, it just needed more room to bloom, and when she let it free,...

Continue reading

Chocolate Melted Hearts

I’m a rainbow sprinkles twist kind of girl, or BlackBerry Ice Cream straight from the dairy farm. So when exactly, at what precise...

Continue reading

How to NOT Become an Altar Boy

Since the beginning, I can remember I’ve always hated the Church. I just could not stand it. Way before I first watched Joel Osteen and...

Continue reading

My Body is a Poem

Originally published September 3, 2016 I’m beautiful. I say it under the dim bathroom light: I. Am. Beautiful. I take solace in the light...

Continue reading

Grandmother-ish

Originally published November 27, 2016 Trudging up the stairs to my grandmother’s third-floor walkup in Manhattan we finally arrive at...

Continue reading

Five Thoughts

Five long, sticky and clinging thin, thinner, thinnest: numbering. One small and short, a stubble amongst the firs on her palm, the rest...

Continue reading

Seeing Myself Through My Own Eyes

Fatty, fatty two by four, can’t fit through the kitchen door. Their names and faces are lost in history, but their words remain my...

Continue reading

My Insane Relationship with a Rapist

Originally Published September 9, 2015 Ashamed to admit it, yet it is the truth, I slept with my rapist several times after he raped me on...

Continue reading

I Have Three Children

Originally published on October 29th 2016 The question I dread the most as a grieving mother is; “How many children do you...

Continue reading

Spit It Out

I wish I could get rid of the taste, it is metallic and poisonous, like burnt pious self-righteousness, unpalatable. I want to wash and...

Continue reading

Day 302: Bye, Felicia.

I have written a million poems about my body. How she couldn’t stay in her lane, fit in her assigned container, listen to directions. How...

Continue reading

Archives of My Mind

I’m the archivist of my mind But I lack the proper training to keep a clean house

Continue reading

Arsonist

I see a corridor and I see it with all its edges. I throw a burning ember on the wooden floor and the mustard wallpaper suddenly shudders;...

Continue reading

Five Year Gap

Five-year gap It could have been ten, I was so young then Just sixteen, you were just ‘old’ Policing my youth, like you always knew...

Continue reading

Laughing with the Sinners: My Life as a Jehovah’s Witness

By the world’s standards, I was a good kid: I didn’t smoke, I didn’t drink, I didn’t do drugs, and I didn’t get into trouble with...

Continue reading

Free Bird

He had already locked the front door so she couldn’t escape, couldn’t open her cage. Perhaps he uttered a prayer to whomever murderers...

Continue reading

Garden Of Solitude

I was always choosing between a relationship and my cherished and essential alonement my connection to Self denied for dozens of...

Continue reading

A Woman’s Choice

But in just a few seconds, the test showed positive. Yes, I was pregnant. I called my mother at once and told her everything. Fortunately,...

Continue reading

Shelter

This is my muted voice. This is a language of my own choosing. The kind that pulls me away from people and erects walls in the vacuum of...

Continue reading

It’s JUST a Measurement

If we allow the weight of that emotional baggage to tie us to that measurement, then it can do damage, then it means something, then it can...

Continue reading

Apathy

Turning in on itself, turning out reflecting images of men, transforming into disgust.

Continue reading

The Burdens Of Childhood You Can’t Outgrow

As a small child, I tentatively reached my feet toward the floor apprehensive of the crevice, the mere inches where darkness bleeds...

Continue reading