Souvenirs of a rape victim

left behind in broken bits her scattered shadows dribble into eerie crevices spider webs and souvenirs of your violated presence henna palm stains as you pushed scratched on walls ankle bell trinkets unhinged scattered in shock rusty red patches as you scavenged of flesh that dripped into his stale breath Read more

Body Image and Me: Accepting Myself Even Though The Dress Doesn’t Fit Anymore

The dress is navy blue. Navy blue with cream color trim around the neck and armholes. It is a size small. I bought it to wear for an Easter Sunday; I don’t remember the year. The dress is one of the few pieces of clothing in my closet that doesn’t Read more

When the Parent Becomes the Child: And Then There Was One

I’ve never minded solitude. For a writer, it’s a natural condition. But caring for a dementia sufferer leads to a particular kind of loneliness. —Laurie Graham My mother is leaving me. Her mind allows her to tell me about my favorite stuffed animal when I was three, my Effalunt, but Read more