Poetry

 The Day asks How do we live? Rough As tree bark, weathered With no illusion.

Pieta I have become utterly numb. My skin has hardened to cement, a statuesque shell of dissociation. Blood streaks...

Both the Dream and Nightmare My uncle’s suicide opened my eyes which made me realize I did not really...

Under the Influence of Depression: Group Meetings We signed a confidentiality agreement, so, if you think you know us...

Pumpkin Carving My lover looks expectant, I think he should throw out the knife stowed in the wastebasket, broken...

A Way of Life To move about the kitchen while he sat for days looking at the floor. Both...

LOST THINGS The book goes into the refrigerator My slippers are under my clothes I look for something –...

Fairy Tale for a Young Inpatient Down, down, way down, at the very bottom of the old wishing well,...

When everyone else turns their back on you, breaking words that ring true, I’ll hold your hand. I’ll go...

hatch my body aches the darkness has eaten into the marrow of my bones everything hurts from my mind...