Two poems shared on Substack notes
horde escape
you will most likely never find me in
a horde of people looking as though
I’m in a place that carries comfort.
If I am, I assure you, I’m forcing my
body to be at peace, to try to enjoy my
surroundings. I’m never at ease in
those situations.
they are few. they are far between.
the path leading to them fades away
more as the years pile on to my age.
I am not who I used to be, I’m a
new person in an old body.
I’m both familiar and unfamiliar, and this
is what intrigues
you.
on our terms
the most difficult thing I experienced
with Jernee during her decline were the
lucid moments. I feared becoming
looped into their trap.
she wasn’t the same, and I knew
that, heart & soul, but sometimes my
baby would look up at me as if she
recognized my face, and I’d be putty
in five seconds.
“it’s only going to get worse” became the
anthem in my home, followed by, “this
sounds like a brain tumor,” and with
each regressive instance, I was
reassured…
I cut death to the quick, and
offered it a seat at the table.
if it was going to take my baby, it’d
be on our terms.
but was it, though?
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 a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
A Cornered Gurl 
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