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lost in the words you spoke so many months, weeks, hours ago
echoing dark and scary
bouncing in recesses of my mind
tip-toeing through the corners
stomping in the brush (more)
In the depths of sorrow, I continue reading. The news is not shocking. Most who are paying attention and taking note, knew it would come to this. We know it will get worse as it continues. Still. The sorrow of reading about the children. All those babies. Why does(more)
"Because my dad didn't love me, I have issues with commitment."
"Because I grew up in a dysfunctional family, I don't communicate well. "
"Because of my genetic make-up, I cannot control my temper."
"Because my mother abandoned me, I lack confidence."
"Because I was abused, I abuse others."(more)
My mother would yell, "You smell like that dog!"

When I did sneak him inside, he would whine to go back out. He never liked the walls to confine him.  
"Badger, look what I got you." He said holding out a stone carved into a sleeping polar bear.  

"Smokem peace pipe?"  

She knew he had already 'smokem pipe' by the looks of his red eyes. He only called her 'Badger' when he was high. It was his(more)
"I'm feeling much better."

"It is cathartic to talk about it."

"Why should I?"
I laughed out loud when I saw the typetrigger this morning. I realize that 'grave reminder' is, more than likely, suppose to go along the lines of 'solemn remembrancer'. However, the whole point of typetrigger is to allow it to slap your imagination and trigger you to come up(more)
"If I look at you from across the room and you see me touch the index finger of my left hand to the right side of my face, I want to go home."

"What should I say?"

I write on scraps of paper what I would say to you if we were still together. I put 'em all in an envelope.
I dunno.
Maybe some day we'll repair this damaged relationship and I can give 'em to ya.
It's nothin' deep or anything. Just...ya know... thi(more)
It was a good thing that him and his wife swore off procreating. He couldn't fit a chihuahua in this tiny flat, let alone a growing human child. Besides, the roaches would probably carry the thing off and eat it for dinner.  
A California native just didn't seem to(more)
He is staring again.

I am just doing the dishes. He is watching me with such admiration, as if I am performing dish miracles in the sink.
I want to write so badly.  
I find most of my writings, as of late, consist of nothing but regurgitated and poorly written memories.    
For this, I apologize.    
Nothing in my imagination is being stirred.  
Don't get me wrong. I am not blaming (more)
It started when I was around the age of five.  
I began having night terrors. These were beyond the "nightmare" scope. Monsters and scenarios that came to dwell in my unconscious mind, were so incredibly bloodcurdling I would piss out of fear. My own screams were often what jarred(more)
crunching sounds beneath my feet
on this trail well worn
this place, once cherished as a child
an adult - longing and forlorn
before me views of horses
grazing in deep grass (more)
Someone shot the peacock.
He didn't belong in the neighborhood.
He showed up five years ago and the families in the area were tiring of his calls. One person said his cries sounded like a child being tortured.
There were attempts made to get animal control to come (more)