If I told you that this time last year I was homeless. Would you believe me? I would sit on the pavement at the entrance of a tall block building in the middle of city. The place they called “The shelter” was just across the street from where I sat, and I would sit and… Continue reading A True Story.
I. I am Vulnerable. Yes. I am work. A work in progress. I am working on This. I can be Real. Is there any fun in that? I am Real. I Do exist. On the Inside. I Do Exist. On the Outside. I Do Exist. She is Broken. Yes, I just referred to myself in… Continue reading I.
I think of the years gone by.. Add our past lives.. Take away the now, the present. Would you have seen us here? Does my presence surprise you? You are a part of me! Like, it was written.. Lifetimes ago.. Not like I need another limb to fix me.. No. Like, you are a… Continue reading Like, I was made to love her.. been working at it..
Do we inherit our Parent’s Sin? I often ask myself this question.. You see, I am my mother’s DNA and I am my father’s traits.. “You’ve got your mother’s walk” they say, and your father’s smile. .. what I would really like to know is, Have I made the same mistakes? Have I walked In their… Continue reading Forgive me for I have sinned.
I’ll go hide. Come seek me. Clue: ‘She crawled into a book’ Should you try looking behind the curtain? No! “She crawled into a book!” She let the pages be her hiding place. The words slowly drifting her out into a different world. Sometimes it’s dark, gloomy.. tragic roads.. Other times she floats… On seas… Continue reading “She crawled into a Book”
I could listen to rain drops dancing on an iron sheet roof for hours.. ‘tip tip tap swoosh..’ It reminds me of home.. Of my grandmother’s heart.. And how it sings.. The little tip taps… And swooshes in between.. I can almost smell the wet soil in her backyard… The fresh breeze of hot and… Continue reading Homesick.
I loved on my bare face today. Bare. With slightly tainted lips. Dipped in ruby and all her woo redness. Nothing else. Made me feel like the most bomb ass being you’ll ever see. I sat there. At lunch.. reading my book.. knowing someone else was reading on me. But it’s cool. It felt good.… Continue reading “Self-love is Revolutionary” Malanda.