maybe it’s time for you to go

dinner isn’t ready. it won’t be. the stove is broken, the heating element snapped. there isn’t a clean dish in this house and we’re out of soap anyway. our food has spoiled. each veggie stalk moldy. fruit turned to mush. the bread ready for a penicillin harvest. there’s blood in the freezer, the meat thawed and weeping. the fridge has thrown in the towel. besides, the cutting board cracked. our knives all dull. the bulb in the kitchen burned out. dining together, it cannot be, the table covered with empty. i can’t see the floor, through the mud and the leaves. the bristles all bent, so sweeping is out anyway. when will you realize it just will not work? there’s nothing i can do to fix this.

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.

From The Bed of A Recluse

I try


To speak to my Family

Mustered courage
Gone to Waste

All that energy?

It took up my day

Calming breaths
Counting to ten

Turning the doorknob

Once again

Venturing forward, halfway down the hall
I say “Hello, what’s going on?”

No movement, no response

I turn back

To my room

Climb into my bed
Sitting, legs splayed

Looking busy
But really


What’s wrong with me?

Have I died?

Am I a ghost?

If so, then where is my mother?

To leave me with these people

They don’t even see
Hear or
Acknowledge my voice
Validate my worth

Where has everyone gone?

That even my words cannot reach?

Why Not Live?

Waking up on wet asphalt covered in blood. She should’ve died. She didn’t. Her recovery, lonely and painful, doesn’t feel like the miracle others are making it out to be. Every time she walks into a room, something bad happens. People are getting hurt. People are dying. She’s in their space. The only way to set things right, is to do what she should have … die.