the dog is dead
to the world.
this kind of sleep
is what I used to have
before the change,
before the crush.
there’s too much worry
in my bones – too much
brokenness. I am
whole-body ache in
need of a salve that’s evergreen.
who will deliver?
Wednesday is just
another day that my
body confuses with
Thursday, and the mind
battles with it – warring
with an enemy who
has an army of an
undisclosed amount.
I am stuck in the middle.
the dog is still dead
to the world.
she didn’t raise her head
or bat an eye.
the sandman who visits
her is clearly not the
one who will beat down
my door tonight.
Category: LGBTQ
we were made to move
an experimental audio poem
I feel her
crying soul
letting go — we’re
breaking free from
the chains we
formed around us.
breathing is like fighting
under water — struggling to
pull against every push.
I tell her “I am here” when
her mind strangles her.
I am ready to save
her from the darkness.
my friend says to me,
“I could never say no to
something like this… the way
you poured your heart out, Tre.
the way you wear your heart
on your sleeve.
if I were her, it’d be a “Yes.”
and I don’t think
people get the crux of us — the
history. we have been
sacred for years; subordinate
to manager, there were just
some roads we couldn’t
cross, and now that we have
this cross to bear, it’s
more jigsawed than ever before.
still…
I feel her
crying soul
letting go — we’re
breaking free from
the chains we
formed around us.
we were made to
move.
Author’s Note: This piece began as a bit of micropoetry I shared as a note on my Substack. I wanted to play around with it and see what else I could produce. The photo above of me helped with this process. The thoughts bouncing about in my mind needed formulating — they needed a home. I think I have found one for them.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
Peace and Blessings!
staying golden
NaPoWriMo #23 An Audio Poem
a gift to myself, but not really
from myself – courtesy of the crush . . .
birthday gift cards hit different,
especially when you can buy
all the things you’ve been eyeing
and not with your own money.
as I listened to my decaffeinated coffee
percolate and watched it trickle
down into my new favorite mug,
I wondered if it would taste better.
and, it did.
there is something orgasmic about sipping
caramelized cocoa goodness with
a hint of butter cream and
savory mocha that sends my
heart aflutter.
who knew an after-work hot
beverage would boost low morale?
I’ve needed this form of pick-me-up.
it’s hitting all the right spots as I
wait for the woman with
my heart to return home
safely.
she has captured it, you see . . .
my heart, that is. and until
I lock eyes with it
again, I am a lowly soul
tethered to her whims.
reminiscence begs for attention,
and I find myself recalling a scene
from The Golden Girls – Dorothy
mentions to Blanche the irony of
looking at oneself in the mirror
while lying down – you’re not
the same.
I know when I look at this
new mug from this moment
forward, a flicker of memories
will flood my brain, and I will
remember how it came to be
a centerpiece in my cupboard.
and I, too, will never be the same.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
Photos From This Past Weekend & NaPoWriMo #22
A two-for-one special post
in the heat of the glory days & sun-soaked nights
haven’t had the pleasure
to enjoy basking in
the goodness of a secret shared
in decades – my glory days
and sun-soaked nights are
winding down.
soon, I’ll spend them with
a sandman who knows all
about losing sleep over
full lips instead of a
broken heart.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
The Sunday Night Routine
NaPoWriMo #21
I melt into myself from
a lazy day that mainly
incorporates working out,
reading, writing, cooking,
staying sane, and trying not
to spiral.
I morph into my grandmother,
who is almost 90 years old.
She is a worrier who doesn’t
understand the word “No.”
I overthink. I overanalyze.
I overcompensate for things
I should have acknowledged
from my past.
The dog is clingier than normal.
I think she believes I will
disappear without a moment’s
notice.
The TV is background noise.
It assists and acts as my
co-writer and co-creator.
I miss out on sleep waiting for
the “I’m home” message from
the crush.
She’s a night owl who walks
home from her second job,
which tears my nerves all
the way up, but I applaud extra
efforts in the pursuit of
monetary excellence.
I say several prayers that
usually involve me questioning
what God has in store for
my impending future, and
I plop my exhausted body
down on the pillow top with
the enhanced cooling foam
mattress topper, and sink into
a deep sleep.
I wake up in the middle
of the night to relieve
myself, but I don’t want
Sunday to end.
Soon after, it does. And I
am left longing for its
presence, hoping the next
five days will hurry up.
I miss Friday already.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
pain & denial
NaPoWriMo #19 A One-Line Poem
it hit me today–I always knew I had
no chance in hell, but I tried to remain
confident in my shambled self–maybe
I am meant to make others feel good,
while remnants of pain catapult me closer to denial.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
A Cornered Gurl 
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