The day my mother died

The day my mother died

You were still warm, but your heart was no longer beating. I was longing to make you hear my gratitude for the life you gave me. I stood there, staring at you, thinking how beautiful you looked, even in dying bed. You could have been everyone's star, but you were mine.

2 min read
The Inventory of My Damage

The Inventory of My Damage

It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities. I've accumulated poor choices the way some collect scars or lovers; they've become my signature, my calling card.

2 min read