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  • Lost Blossom

    There was a time when you mattered The last bloom On the Rose of Sharon Of The Season In which your spirit did not survive Another fall Falls near As the sky Or a…

  • Knowing the Dead

    In a sleep, the wound wept its tears Bloodshed Seeped from itself without knowing But I knew I saw your death a million times before you did But then you said In a sleep,…

  • The Scenic Route

    Let’s forgo the easy way. In October, I found myself at a funeral for a friend’s daughter, who was just shy of her 19th birthday. She’s just a kid. It’s the phrase that played on repeat…

  • Seasonal Affective Disorder

    sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad 13s are symbolic, The Greeks or some other dead people said so, or Maybe it was just rhetoric from the OMEN It is not…

  • Fight for Your Rights, Grace Needs a Vacay

    there are no promises that can be kept by gift we live by right we die grace is optional except when it’s not the grace to bear grief is sometimes always never the only…

  • Blossoming

    I have a large flowering tree More than I can count Pink blossoms, thin and bursting, Centers dark as poppy hearts They drop to the ground Pretty clichés I’m disappointed in their ordinary deaths…

  • Nothing There

    I went back to read your words But they aren’t there They aren’t to be found The website says Nothing here There’s nothing there Was there ever? If I can’t read the words I…

  • Licking of Dead Toes

    Originally posted on Home: there will be no licking of my dead toes I hope I have the exact opposite of a foot fetish and would prefer socked or brown house-shoed feet unless I’ve…

  • Approximation of the Conversation Bindo and I Had Via Facebook Just the Other Day

    Originally posted on Home: MedicatedLady: who let the dogs out, bindo? Bindo: I love dogs and sunshine and butterflies. I welcomed the sun’s light this morning and rejoiced in the sound of birds’ singing.…