Sense Memories

It is 6pm Friday night. My dad and his fiancé have come to town for a few days. Tom and I have prepared some little appetizers to…

Why I Choose to Write About Grief

“What is wrong with you? Why can’t you just move on?”

If I were to look for my pain

If I were going to look for my pain, I would need more strength than I can muster now. Perhaps I can bind…

Absolute Zero

zero degrees Kelvin
absolute zero
molecules frozen
atoms suspended in time
this is where my soul was put
to protect
both me and others…

Little Sharp Box

I wander the hallways of my memory
Peeping Tom to my own past
Afraid to go in any room
I prefer to watch from afar
If I watch too…

Morning Ritual

In first light hours

neither can sleep

Grief — I am the taker

I am the taker of logic,
the stealer of normal.
I am the devourer of intelligence,
bringer of grey fog.
I am the…

A Blessing for Grievers

May simplicity find you again
the ordinary things that seem so far gone

She Calls

On the morning mist
I taste her summons
Salt tinges the air
Calling my name
She wants to talk
I am torn but comply
I start towards her Beach.

Below The Surface

Below the surface it is a hoarder’s den of things I do not say, and things I try to keep myself from feeling. I take those…