from many homes

Tag: life

  • present

    I used to be able to sit down and start writing. Lots of poetry, lots of big thoughts. It didn’t matter what my surroundings looked like – a cramped, dirty apartment that smelled like cigarette smoke and sweat; a cypress cabin filled with plants and tchotchkes; the room in this house that used to be…

  • nearly lost you

    My head hurts. My head hurts all the time. My hips, my neck, my ankles, my arms. I go to bed in pain, I wake up throughout the night in pain. It’s getting worse. My thoughts stay disjointed, cloudy. I stumble, I trip, I’m so sleepy. I ask myself a million times a day –…