The Dam Breaks (She Wept)


Daydreamer dreaming about dreams

Dreaming about life

A life that has escaped her

A laugh-less house

A house void of the pitter patter of litter feet

A house that never became a home

Built on cracked glass waiting to burst into a shrapnel

Impaling and then poisoning every aspect of her life

Believing that she have nothing left to give

Nothing left do

She can’t meltdown

Crying seems an abstract thought, she is beyond that

She is angry

Days go by, weeks, months

Then she is calm, too calm

She is thinking about the hurt that was caused

The missed opportunities, past and future

She must start over

But time is not her friend and she honestly does not want to

She blames herself for everything

She finally allows the demon in

It reaps her soul and ravages her very being




Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood

I have been flayed slowly one layer at a time

Each piece seemingly to happen over an eternity of tears and curses

Bleeding and praying

Watching my heart pulse, quiver, and sputter

You pull another layer away each time you open your mouth

I watch my brain synapses jump, light up, spark, crackle, and fizzle

Another layer is peeled away as you refuse to share

Finally my remaining muscles are stripped of nutrients and size as I sit waiting

Because the last layer is snatched off the bone because love is lost


A Leap of Faith


Staring vacantly ahead

Deep in thought

Rocking back and forth, back and forth

Wringing hands so tight they are numb

Rocking and thinking, think and rocking

Tears silently sliding down my face

I have to let go of my pride

I have to hear HIM

I have understand everything, anything

I have to let go! I have try. I…don’t know anymore

Rocking back and forth back and forth

It has to get better

I have made a decision

Is it the right decision?

Rocking and thinking, thinking and rocking

I can’t worry anymore I have to let go

I have to trust and take A LEAP


**These are the moments in which I struggle the most…when I sometimes want to take the reins and control everything and I forget that I have to trust and allow God to do what he has designed for me. There are times when I feel that I can be superwoman and I choose not to rest and plow forward and I reminded that I can no longer do that with MG. These were one of those times! You never know when God has equipped you with wings, a parachute or a safety net, you just have to to trust HIM!**

I Miss My Gingerbread…

The subtle way you held your mouth while reading

The delicate manner in which touching touching the paper

The deliberate effort placed into each word you made while still making each sound as sweet as a peach

How did you do that?

Never raising your voice in anger

Always a smile upon your lips

Sweet words to heal even to worst of days for me.

You place down your book and go into the kitchen to finish dinner.

There you are baking and kneading dough with your bare soft hands

Watching the rhythmic way you pat and roll, pat and roll


Pat and roll the tray of cornbread

The buttermilk smells so heavenly and looks enticing on your sweet little fingers as you squeeze it off as if they were utters

I giggle inwardly at the thought

You wash your pillow soft hands and put on lotion in such a dainty way

I watch the way the luster comes back and the gingerbread spice of your skin sparkles

How I miss my Gingerbread!


**For my reader- It’s been 5 years but there is hardly a week that goes by that I do not think about my great grandmother! She was truly a loving woman that was the apple of my eye. I loved her very dearly and she was one of the sweetest women I know. Her nick name was Gingerbread both a play on her name being Virginia and likely her skin color. She loved to read and she loved to cook and be with her family. She also loved the Lord. She would have been 92 yesterday and I honestly was can say I am still learning from this woman even after she is gone! Thanks Grandma!

A Reflection of Love


Art by Leonid Afremov

A Reflection of Love
Warm wrinkles whispering to one another as they sit on the park bench
The autumn air nipping at their faces and she turns her collar up and turns toward him

Fussing over his buttons as he looks at her in mock agitation
How he hates for her to fuss over him in public

The light catches her hair and though it has turned white there are still hints of the beautiful hues of old in it

The light touches her face and eyes and gives her the warm glow that reminds him of why he fell in love with her

The pure quizzical look she gives everything
How everything seems so sweet, new and exciting
How much love there is to be had and how warm and cozy live is with her

All these things he could see reflecting back in her eyes as he watched her
so much to be said in the silence

Sitting across from them I can only wonder,
Do we mirror?

A Stolen Glance

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I saw you sir, out of the corner of my eye

Taking what was privately mine.

Drinking in long thirsty gulps of my silence and mystery

Pondering my thoughts and story

Piecing together my day and years from the bits all about me

The clear eyes like those of stuffed bears peering over your paper

Stealing moments yet not backing off if caught

Only slowly glancing to the side as if thinking off in space

Not quite perfected daydream stare but as if you are thinking to hear a call on Bluetooth

Then something startles you or is it interest

I fix you with my eyes and refuse to look away

Caught as if by a spiders web

A fire lights in his eyes

He speaks, “Hi”