The Heart Always Wants to Keep Beating
By the way, in case you didn’t know, one can live with half a heart, half a soul. Yes, the blood still flows thru veins, the legs still move, the pulse still pulses.
Isn’t that simply astounding?
Author: Kim Sisto Robinson
Kim Sisto Robinson is a mother, lover, poet, writer, educator, obsessive blogger, lover of cats, cheese puffs, chocolate chips cookies, Sylvia Plath, addicted to books, women’s stories, walking with audio books ( Lolita was off the charts!), and powerful, transformative words.
Her work has appeared in Scary Mommy, Bella On Line, Glass Woman, Migrations, Rebelle Society, and Feminine Collective.
She created her blog, My Inner Chick, to honor her sister, Kay, whom was murdered by her estranged husband in 2010. Her mission is to give “Voice” to all women without one. She was honored the "Men As Peacemaker's Award" in 2015 for her work with domestic violence.
What We Hold Inside
(for the Goddess & Kay) The scent of cinnamon, brown sugar, & sweet butter slide up my nostrils like an entire childhood. It is the closest thing to heaven I can think of. I disappear into high school days, God searching days, free verse days. I disappear on my old Read more
I Was A Casino Girl
Working on a cruise ship was like being emancipated into another dimension. –Kim Sisto Robinson It was 1980 something. I was young, fearless, and hopelessly invincible. Besides, at twenty, I landed a job in Miami on Carnival Cruise Lines as a Croupier, aka Blackjack Dealer. I had previously applied for Read more
After the Murder
“Your coffin reached the monstrous hole. And a part of me went down into the muddy earth with you and lay down next to you and died with you.” ― Rosamund Lupton, Sister After the murder, my prayers went something like this: “Help me. God, help me. Please, fucking help Read more
You Rise
(For my dear sister, Kay, I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.) Your face is fading. I see shadows of chin, cheekbone, childhood inside my mind. Orange Kool-Aid, baloney sandwiches, Aunt Carol’s peonies like colossal, pink faces thrill us. He loves me, he loves me not. You tell me you Read more