Wonder Woman In Training

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High school senior, Kate, is on her own for the first time in her life with no one to take care of but herself. Even across several hundred miles, her family crushes her independence and reminds her just how connected she is to a life she wishes she could change.

Hope Is For Cowards

When you’re wishing for something that will likely not happen

But try anyway …

You hope.

And when it ultimately  fails, you can say

I had hoped …

And then consolation from somewhere

deep, nearby, far away.

When you’ve wanted, dreamed, dared

But don’t actually say it will happen …

You hope.

Hope is for cowards.

Just a backward way of setting yourself up

For failure.

Voices Unheard

We’re not listening, there is
no ‘new’ way
no ‘new’ cause
no ‘new’ reason
it’s the same as it ever was

Too late, we feel it
tragic loss
incomprehensible loss
senseless loss

A glimpse, wasted now, at the
unknowable pain
fractured heart
pleading soul

Messages clear but unanswerable
changes unable to be made
the softness of your voice


I really wanted to

There was a wall, a mile high, smooth with no handholds.
A fence, running long, draped with razor wire.
It was a mound of dirt, insurmountable.
A blade of grass, quaking in the wind.

It couldn’t be done. Not overcome, curbed, conquered, or defeated.

It was a snail trail. A crumb. A casting of light,
That kept me.

Unattainable. Hopeless. Not to be won. Mostly it was absurd to dream it.

I really wanted to

I wouldn’t.

Lost To Us

A window

A screen

A light on inside

You sitting at the table

You reading a book

A door

A knocker

A light on inside

You tiptoeing

You crouching

A sliding glass door

A screen

A light on inside

You on the couch

back with your book

A forehead resting on the wall

A sob

A light on inside

You blank

Not answering

Lost for good.

Something Beautiful

I want to write about something beautiful

To be inspired by stories of the world


One must scour the pages for a positive

To find a kindness

One must reach passed

The wretched behavior of Mothers and Sons

Must shield against the atrocities of neighbors

And the lost trust in our government and police

What a dream for those to be few and far between

And the acts of love dominate our screen


Out of Control

He won’t listen, he won’t clean, he won’t speak, he won’t do anything.

He’s indignant.

He thinks he should be able to do everything for nothing.

He blames.  Points his finger.

Works to teach a lesson,

He can’t know or even understand.

He’s little.

He’s a kid.

He’s terrible.

He breaks my heart, my belongings, my hopes, my plans.

Nothing I do works.

Therapy.  We’re on year five.

Anger Management, books, therapists, O.T.s, PhDs, psychologists.

Schedules, plans, charts, tests, pets.

Unconditional love.

Change is nowhere.

My heart is broken.  I have no hope.

My Family Is …

Passive aggressive bullies.

Now,  Be Nice.

Okay … Full of shit.

Nope.  Try again.

My family is full of people trying to make it.  Trying to make their life full.  Trying to navigate what they need, what they want, what changes their minds, what keeps them going, what pushes against them, what others need, what others want, what pressures them.

One wants you to visit.

They miss you.  They love you.  You aren’t trying hard enough.  Where did you get that idea?  No.  I can’t believe you thought I’d want that.  I want.  I want.  I want.  You just need to show up.  Be present.  Do whatever.  But also run it all.  You disappoint me.  You should have.  You needed to.  You can’t keep me from doing this.  It means so much to me.  Since when?  Since always. You never said.  I shouldn’t have to.  You are letting me be.  You don’t expect me to do it.  I already paid for something else.  I want to do this.  Well, I just thought you’d want to see your family.  I thought you cared.

One doesn’t want to visit.

You don’t love us.

Yes, I do.  My family is full of needs.  My family is full of hurt.  My family is full of love.  My family is full of sadness.  My family is full of shame.  My family is full of desires for laughter.  My family is full of missing out.  My family is full of ideas.  My family is full of procrastination.  My family is full of disappointments.  My family is full of borrowed feelings.  My family if full of unclaimed feelings. 



School’s out.  Not with a bang but a fizzle.  Last year, it was long awaited, exciting to be completing another year.  This year, it was still long awaited but I wasn’t excited.  I just wanted the kids to leave.  Perhaps this is because my 9th graders are really truly leaving this year.  I will miss them.  I was feeling sad that they were leaving but that isn’t what made me want to run and never come back.

I wanted to do that because on one of my most celebrated days – the start of the last week – one of my students came to checkout of school.  He told me he tried to kill himself.  That he had several times.  He wasn’t sure how many.  It was the first I had heard of this.  It was revolting.  To have been so clueless.  I don’t want a job where such devastating loss is part of the package.  Every year, something horrible happens.  I hate it.  I feel I have failed.  Let my student down by not being their link to security.

Of course, I can’t be that.  It isn’t my role.  Self importance allows me to think that only I could have helped.  All bullshit.  Any thought of helping someone that doesn’t want help is a waste.  I have been there.  I have planned.  Nothing and no one can pull you from that grip.  Nothing matters.  No one matters.  All logic lost.

The only true hope is that time will pass or someone will notice and physically insert themselves into your day.  Never leaving.  Not ever giving you that opportunity you so desperately want but won’t ask for because you know you’ll be denied.  Thank the rotation of the earth for the passage of time.   That allows you a minute to think clearly.  To see what an ass you’ve been.  To thank whatever you want to still be alive.  All things matter.  Everyone matters.

Could I be the person that inserts into the path of a suicidal student?  Yes.  I do think it’s my job.  It is my role.  “To a degree.”  I am told – my job is to recognize.  To alert.  Even with everyone on alert, we still fail.  I didn’t recognize.  That is where I failed.  I think back to what I could have noticed.  These kids.  They don’t all open up and tell you their troubles.  They say, “I’m fine.”  Liars.  All of them.

I tried to make up for my failure.  I tried to tell him that one day, he will see a bird or leaf or sunset that fills him to no end.  It will be there just for him.  And he will be glad that he is there to see it.  Did he believe me?  Will he try again?  Or has there been enough time?  Will he get the help he needs?  Life isn’t the big deal that movies make it out to be.  It is the little things.  The delights are in the mundane.  A cool breeze.  A rainy day.  Reading.  Finding who you are.  And accepting it.