Poetry

My body wants a safe place where it can speak, and a listener, who will listen, without judgement. A place where it can express the...

I'm afraid of the things That make me suffer— bright lights noise vivid colors smells movement:         At the park with the kids...

Today I'm made of glass, and a small crack is creeping slowly up from one hand towards the base of my neck. When it...

I watch my children run around the kitchen in circles giggling screaming tripping tumbling Not in the kitchen! hangs on my lips...