Wow, 2019 was... a refreshingly "mild" year for me. I mean, there was still sadness and joy and hardships. But 2017 and 2018 had some very significant trauma (and significant healing!). In 2019, I focused on continuing that healing and getting my hands REALLY in that dirt. Here are some of my favorite takeaways. I… Continue reading What I learned in 2019
On November 22, 2018, Onnissia Harries published a series of poems celebrating and mourning the completion of a relationship. The reader is given a hint in the title how this story ends, but that does not prevent Harries from creating an ebb and flow. She masterfully creates anticipation, hope and heartbreak. Harries artfully uses the… Continue reading An Analysis of “Today Would Have Been Five Years” by Onnissia Harries
We carry baskets of burdens upon our hips, The wicker imprinting on our skin. Generation after Generation We carry the weighted shadows of the worries of our mothers. We collect men who need us, like berries in a field, And even if we drop them, their sins stain our fingers. And as their juice runs… Continue reading Generational Trauma
Marsilla the cat senses when I've woken up enough to be aware of her. She plops down with some finesse in a nook Created between my tired body and the blankets And purrs loudly as she snuggles closer to me. And for a moment I forget that on Monday, I sat in my car sobbing… Continue reading hard mornings
First things first Let's be self destructive Take a swig, with a smoke, Take a hit, snort some coke, Let's end this fucking shit right here. Not a day goes by Where I don't cry So let's just fuck shit up.
You forget how loud silence is after screaming. I suppose I forgot what tenderness meant after manipulation. Soft slow touches with soft slow moans stir within me a tightness in my throat. I open from the inside out and I feel my world shift beneath my stirring body. For the first time in a long… Continue reading transformation
You don't know you're rotting even as your putrid muscles fall from the bone, You don't smell the stench of your own unhappiness, A puberty of self hate. The leaves on the trees create a splendor in their yearly death, and I think of the flames that destroyed me also kept me warm. The irony… Continue reading scorched earth
in the quiet, soft darkness i kissed you. stroking your skin, i taste your quivering lips and i wonder how i ever kissed a man when i could have kissed you.
i see your body in a series of images each one a picture of horror a stop motion film a nightmare where i can't move through fast enough fighting through air praying you were breathing i count your breaths notifying the dispatcher of each one have you caught your trauma, your throat a catcher's mitt… Continue reading On the One Year Anniversary of Finding Your Body