Life is full of changes.Large and smallEnough to make anyone stressYet, expected to be beneficial This sense of change can be overwhelmingFeelings of being inadequate and irrelevantEmotional drainage that few realizePushing us all aside like waves Caught in a perpetual cycleof rise and fallThese ideas of what change can bringUnable to truly deal with them ...

My American soldier.Head held high,unafraid to fight.Unafraid to die. For thosehe loves in thisblessed country,and for their freedom. Because he believes inthe wordsfreedom, liberty,justice for all. “Why must you go?”I cry, everyteardropa scar on my heart. Every step hetakes, breaks myspirit further, mysoul crys in anguish. Is it selfish to needhim here, even ashis country ...

It’s a strange worldwe have foundourselves in. America is nowpublic enemynumber one. The patriots areunwelcome andracist. Racism only appliestoward the“white supremacists”. For they are as evil and sinisteras devils right? When will we learn towake up and realizewe’re the same. For we’re connectedand bleed red,white and blue. Have we forgottenwhat it meansto be human? For ...

I’m a sour patch kid.First sour, then sweet,dancing on taste budsuntil I’m gone. I can be innocent.A slice of heavento make all your dreamscome true. Or I can be cruel.Your match made in hell,a perfect storm wrappedin a tantalizing package. A temptress full of desirebeyond imagination.A heartbreaker to leave you cold and empty. “It’s not ...

I don’t know what to tell youas your tearful eyes,full of hurt and spite,claw deep into my heart. “You’re not the same!”you exclaim,as you turn your backleaving me in the cold. How could I not be the same?did I transform intosome unrecognized monster,without trace of your best friend? I’m a young kindred spiritwho is as ...

Heroes are overratedThe type entitledto always save a damsel. As if I, a mere maiden,need liberationfrom anythingoutside desire. I’m no mere maiden,I don’t need liberation,emancipation,or freedom. I’m a woman ofpure carnal youthtrapped insidea fragile beauty. I roam the streetsamong nakedmoonlight, waitingfor something wicked. Yes, I need a wicked,devious, villain.The one to bindme in chains. To ...

As rain drip drops in the woods, it fills my vessel. Nourishing leaves and roots, the pitter patter talks to me. And arouses sweet memories of MartaDi- my American born sister from another mother. She and I, swung this swing together. We crackled, rejoiced, and felt free to share our fondest little truths. She described ...

Arms stretch upwards in a bid to form a shieldLegs pick up pace in search of saving sheltersShutters clap close to create a damJoyful screams echo from the lips of wet toddlers The rain is hereHer voice is the perfect harmony of baritone thunder and crackling strikesFrom the safety of my bedroom where I sitI ...

Life is unpredictableWe try to fill it with thingsThat makes us happy or sadBut nothing can help us predict our future We think that everything is set to fateSo we fight against the grainOr do we sit and wait for events to happenAs they may appear to be Our lives are what we make of ...

A road not taken wasforty years ago – to trust my motherhear her advicefire the therapistwho honed my resentment against her. If I did, I would have beenIn touch with my brothersmarried youngerhave childrenbe close to my momforty years earlier. Instead, I listened to aa therapist who sharpened thevenom I had against my mother. I ...