After they die, I crack a cold, cheap beer and comb through my belongings. I look for letters, texts, facebook comments and photographs. Listen to messages to see if maybe, somewhere along line, they’ve left me the gift of their voice. After they die, I scramble desperately for something left of them. Something tangible. Something …
I remember the back of my uncle’s head. The smell of the cigarette he smokes, wafting through the window. His red neck in the driver’s seat my knees brushed up against the back. Going somewhere, as a family. I am starting to make promises to God and placing strange things that I find upon the …
Today, I placed my forehead on the keyboard and typed the letter j a hundred times. With my nose. The tip of it. Something soothing in the motion. I never loved the letter j and yet here I am, a stream of jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjs across the page. I was supposed to water my grandmother’s roses today, …
Continue reading A Haunted House and Dying
There are butterflies everywhere when I wake up today. In bed, I sit and watch them swim inside the air outside my window. I have never seen so many. They are flying by in droves. Thank god for butterflies. I lost my uncle not too long ago. He went the same way that my cousin …
I was looking for my anger over the last few days, wondering why it wasn’t here. Anger about my community. About what we are all going through. To be honest, though, I speak from luxury. I really do. I didn’t lose a home. I didn’t lose family or friends in the shooting. I am still …
Continue reading Re-Directed Anger: To All My Armchair Warriors
The Wild Heart of Life 