I am a poetess a prowess, a lioness ripping through emotions a shark in an ocean of sadness and incapable expression.
And in the end
All she wanted
Was her own piece
"You're crazy." How often have you heard this phrase thrown around, either flippantly, in jest or to victim blame someone who has overcome or is recovering from abuse? I heard this often as a post-cult teenager and well into my adult years. While I was actually dealing with the behavioral aftermath of being an extremely … Continue reading Born Crazy: A Video Poem
After cult life I Know what it's like Run across the road In the dark night Steal vegetables From the neighboring farm And it harm none Mama formed the mission Holding her Bible A glory soaked misfit Cold seeped doorways On an old trailer In lot Number seven Piling up blankets Summers fanning heat There … Continue reading Poverty