Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
My mother’s hair was high in the sixties, beehive style. A social climber, she secured invitations to every ritzy Reagan-Republican-Beverly-Hills-circle-of-influence affair. Hearing about a party to which she had not been invited, she’d find a way to run into the host at the market or feign a reason to call. Read more
Excuse me, do I know you? I vaguely remember your face We were friends once, the very best friends We were tight, so very close Secrets were shared, tears cried, belly laughs burned and drunken nights felt never ending Even faded rock star blue jeans with holes in the knees Read more
i knew enough to know abuse was someone pounding their fists into someone else and i knew enough to know the domestic violence shelter was full of real people they were filled with children i had played video games with while my mother worked downstairs helping their mothers survive Read more
Her mind is confused. Her thoughts bubble up from unconscious literature, written in dreams. Her ideals, a compilation of conflicting truths. Her heart pumps red, squeezing drops through the constricting black membrane of rage. She drinks from the well of insanity, smiling to hide the riddle inside. She remembers, a movie Read more
Sometimes I want to shave every hair attached to my scalp because at night when my head hits the pillow I smell his finger tips. Countless nights claws just running through it like a 10k marathon, it never ends. It’s like each strand is a different memory, a different feeling Read more
