What if we ask and it doesn’t come? What if the way it comes isn’t how we wanted it? What if it’s not from who we want it? Or, even worse, the last person we want it from?
Asking is a form of surrender and that shit is scary. More than needing help itself.
The freedom I feel while waiting for the bus. I smile and take note. It reminds me of the color mustard and how I wore it for more than a year, strapped to my back, waiting and smoking and leaving and, saying hello again and again.
Ha. Right? As if I am going to tell you what to do. Not so much. BUT. I can tell you what I wish people had told me when I was up…
One of my very first classes as a Freshman in college was called “Dialogue.” It was a required class where we read material like Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail,”…
The newly planted Hosta grows tall toward the ceiling in an orange terracotta pot just a shade off from the color of the wall above the fireplace. The dishwasher hums and swishes.…
This is something I don’t really like to talk about. I don’t like to talk about it because I am reaching and hoping and grieving for the loss of a reality that…