The wreckage of her soul is poetic.  Her verses cascade from her eyes in iambic pentameter. Her survival is a fiery resilience, that engulfs her parchment; each page set aflame  and extinguished in her storm. There is beauty in how she rises from her ruins, in the midst of her own destruction. Advertisements

i am responsible for my own haunting

On days like this, I am the house and the ghost, responsible for my own haunting. My brain is a revolver with, “Am I good enough?” in every chamber. So I turn into a factory that only makes the word “yes” and I say it until I can easily Mistake it for the truth, but […]

the struggle

I’ve learned that no matter how good things are externally, there will always be an internal fight for people like me.  The wonder of the darkness is that it comes with an equivalent light. Unfortunately, it’s impossible to determine which will be dominant in our lives or for how long. You’re not alone.

The Birth of a Rainbow

  That night was darker than usual.   I blame the gloom and despair that weighed down my spirit.   I woke from a restless sleep, feeling excruciating pain.   This was it.   This was what the doctor said would happen.   My less than 2% of hope disappeared and stole an enormous piece of my heart.   My body […]