Another morning I wake up in front of the mirror
mentally exhausted
heart sore,
emotionally bruised and beaten.
Isolated from personal pleasures
By the heavy-handed victimizer of living.
life
Military Brat
Retired after
twenty years.
Now what?
Ghostly Image
I look at her weathered face
and I can see that time doesn’t fly.
It picks, it chips,
it spits out turpentine,
and it drizzles acid rain.
I look at her and I can see
that her cheeks are rusty
and the crows have made
a nest of her bonnet.
I look at her and I want to cry.
I look at her and I can’t help Continue reading
In Living Color
Red lips.
Blue eyes.
Purple streaks
Throughout my hair.
Yellow baby doll tee
Orange polka dot socks
Green pair of panties
On the floor.
I wonder if that is all he sees
In color when he looks at me.
POV: PO Box
365 days a year.
52 weeks.
Every day mouth opened.
Yawning wide
Letters fly in.
Hand hewn,
Seed of the soul
Love letters
I embowel.
Buried deep
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