I cannot There is no way I cannot face What happened today I must do something I must move quick My heart beat is too fast I feel quite sick Something went wrong Something’s amiss It’s out of my control Something I cannot fix. I surf the web I clutch my chest Oh look, a ...

Holding my breath I watch the unexpected snow swaddle daffodils.

I have written articles about how I have a lot of anxiety about the amount of time it takes me to physically type words. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned that sometimes I get so frustrated I don’t even bother writing that day. I’ve figured a way around that. There are these magical things called writing ...

I can see you sitting across from me. Your eyes were dark and eerie. But there was nothing about you that screams danger. Your stance was high but the way the calmness of your stance starts to still me. You’re alone at the piano. The quickness of your fingers and the soulful music you were ...

Trees and grass, the Bay mare’s protection One spring night.   Breathing heavily – No wind, No threat in sight.   Her colt lies beside her, Touching noses.

Is life as easy as one thinks it is? I’ve asked that countless times, On a personal quest, Like rubbing a crystal ball, Expecting the future to be revealed, Decoded with enough grandeur to stand on mountains. It used to make sense to me, Like a fantasy RPG game, Pick a character, achieve goals, Maybe ...

Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation. Or it could be the excessive black coffee in my veins. Or maybe it was that philosophy class I attended one time before switching out. I have no idea why I am typing this blog post. I do know that it was on a Sunday morning, my wedges clicked on ...

A heart that hurts Is hard to heal.  When someone has hurt you  To the point you can’t speak on the pain. How do you return from that? How do you reach another heart that’s been twisted as much as you? Is it even possible to go back – to the moment before the pain ...

Who’s Michael? Devoid of perception, I am falling. I am aware of nothingness. Neither asleep nor awake, the existence of time suggests I’m alive. A crooning infiltrates my perception. “My son is back.” A tachycardia alarm shakes me as nausea changes gravity’s directions in the nightmare half-sleep. Swirling, tossing darkness stretches between seconds and eternity. ...