At age 7, I was guilty
when I accepted an invitation
to go into the apartment of a neighbor
He smelled of beer as he groped me.

At age 10, I was guilty
when I walked home too late
because I missed the train
He popped out of the bushes
exposing himself.

At age 12, I was guilty
when my uncle forced
tongue into my mouth
because I could not
get away.

At age 14, I was guilty
when my uncle forced
me to sit on his lap
while in my bathing suit
and I ran away from home.

At age 16, I was guilty
when my uncle convinced
everyone that I was a liar
and I quit school.

At age 18, I was guilty
when I gave birth to
my first child,
because I was ignorant.

At age 20, I was guilty
when I saw the cardiologist
in the reflection of a lamp
*******  and the
police laughed at my report.

At age 30, I was guilty
when my employer
trapped me in the elevator
to ***** me, because I
was his subserviant.

At age 36, I was guilty
when I earned jujitsu honors
but risked going to jail
for defending myself.

At age 70, I was guilty
when a neighbor brought
me fruit and grabbed my
breast, because I was alone.

At age 72, I am guilty
of being a ferule woman
for 50 years and for
NOT be silent!

Liquid courage to numb the pain.
Intoxicated to forget.
Offbeat blood, sent from heart to vein.
Returns with a guest, she just met.


She closes up, leaves the bar clean.
To her apartment, around three.
In bed she lays, counting some sheep,
That mock her, thinking she will sleep.
She hears the crickets’ lonely beat.
Reminding her of creeps she meets.
Sometimes they have a potential start.
But never truly go that far.


Each night dealt with some other cards.
But slowly starts to build up guard.
She puts less time in her makeup.
But drunks continue to pick up.
She joins in shots, hopes to pass out.
But in her head she hears the shouts.
Her heart’s hunger for real love.
Her clouded thoughts rise above.


A newly turned insomniac.
No longer sleeping on her back.
Till curtains peek with starry eyes.
So bright, leaves a forceful rise.
Her sobs like strings of violin.
A void no liquor can fill in.
Despite how much she tries to drown.
The aches resonate with shrill sounds.


Another night, still found no one.
A man enters, two drinks and done.
She questions him, “What is the rush?”
Always pulled into a quick crush.
But never really tends to last.
As he mumbles about his past.
A bartender, like therapist.
As alcohol reveals the gist.


Now drunk and loud, he starts to shout.
Before his crash, he raises doubt.
He talks about, the best he lost.
Always at home, waits for the toss.
She cheers him up, when in a rut.
He gets up again, “That **** mutt!
To see her hurt, curled up in bed.
I held her paw, up till her death.”


The next night, slept pretty early.
He was perfect, brown hair curly.
Her eyes were lost, but not with lust.
Enjoyed his smells, delicious must.
A piece of her, became a part.
Happy to save his sinking heart.
Rescued him, he slept on her rug.
Named Milo, her three-legged dog.

Suddenly,
buttoning their jackets and making sure
their sleeves were straight and perfect
as the train quickly approached her stop
became more important than
anything she'd done.

Only child. Straight A's. Good athlete. Church choir;

But this suddenly was the most
important moment of her
life.

Never noticed me
Under her pink dye
And thick thighs.
Never noticed me
In others eyes,
In others lies.

Didn’t notice me
Sinking in
And taking name.
A kiss on the neck
And I’m to blame.

Didn’t notice me
Notice her,
The other one
With darker fur.

I feel like a kid again,
The butterflies
In my stomach
And on my face
Give way to
Nails on my neck
And choke
That I can taste.

I drink to
Blue eyes
And costly affairs.
The timid blonde
That broke silence
Now laughs at me
With a stare.

“Smile,” she says.

See the thing with growing up with a single mother
I had to learn how to be a man by her and my older brother
But if I didn't have that strong woman
I don't know where I would be
Honestly,
She the one who pushed me to be me
The me that I wanted to be
Telling me I can do whatever
I dreamed
Yet still punishing me
A woman like that is an astonishing thing
Something you don't find often
But I got her
And I know she's a blessing
Because everybody don't have
A mother who cares
And a mother whose there
Even when I had nothing
Not even for my stomach
I had my mother
And she had more love for me
Than I could stomach
More advice than I could bother to hear
She could make any pain disappear
But she also got a side
That you never want to to hear
But she's my mom
So I always hold her near....

we were just small children so we didn’t quite understand what father meant when he said

“mother is sad”

we continued our games and make believe stories and waited for mother to be happy

and when we were young, sad just meant someone stepped on your picture

or they ruined your sand castle


and in 2 seconds it was over

the deeper I fall into my depression I find my mother
I find her ghouls and her ghosts
her corpses

I find her dark eyes in my dark eyes every time I look in the mirror
and I find her hatred for everything, including me

I find new ways to torture myself
my mother

“you have your mothers eyes”


we also have the same disease

the only difference is, her demons won
mine don’t stand a chance