Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
i unloaded the dishwasher that morning and then i went to therapy and unloaded on this new doctor and she said, perhaps, maybe, possibly my post-partum depression was because i just missed having attention because all the babies i had lost apparently hadn’t given me enough unwanted side-show-status-attention i wondered Read more
My mother she ate me, my mother she left me. She gave me complexes and stresses, ribbons and dresses. Some of my favorite things. I’ve got neurons overflowing with guilt, electrons drowning in fear I’ve got a closetful of hand-me-downs and a bank account with hard-earned money to afford to Read more
My mother’s death was a shock at first. And then it was a relief. She was diagnosed with bone cancer on March 9, 2012. She died in the last minutes of March 21. How long she had had the bone cancer, her doctor would not suppose. What was known was Read more
I admit I didn’t really like you when we first met. We had only been in the house a month when you came over with your 12-year-old son, Kyle. You introduced yourself, welcoming us to the neighborhood. You gave us a quick, but very detailed, oral tour of the houses Read more
My mom desires a closeness with me now that she never did when I was young. I’d long suspected my mother didn’t embrace parenting in that fervent, born-for-this way that some of us do. Still, I was stunned the day she actually confirmed just how trapped she’d felt in the Read more
I’m your mother, but no I’m not listening. You’re talking in the backseat of the car. I hear you, barely. I’m your mother. You say my name “Mom? Mom!” I can’t really hear you, not really. But I will always be your mother. You’re talking more in the backseat of Read more
I swear I heard the sun burn something alive under the ocean. I heard a scream just as I lit the matches to a wooden coffin with no body inside to keep it warm. My sister’s hair was always braided, and when those brown strands came undone, so did my Read more
(for the Goddess & Kay) The scent of cinnamon, brown sugar, & sweet butter slide up my nostrils like an entire childhood. It is the closest thing to heaven I can think of. I disappear into high school days, God searching days, free verse days. I disappear on my old Read more