My heart breaks daily at silence, repeating,
My voice an echo into a world not answering
My family so far, beyond my reaching
Alone on this island with two girls I am teaching;

This balance of pain, more than I can feel
Once used distractions can’t take the wheel
Nowhere to turn, not even my friends
It must be so, I’ve exhausted them

Heart on a sleeve is a sure death nail
Wanting it back is just too hard a sell
Distance is what they must need from me
Cause the depth of my pain is just too much to see.

Photo Credit


I felt you all run
When things were real
No longer a game
Of spinning the wheel

I revealed my sadness
Funny clown went away
Couldn’t cope with the depth
Didn’t know what to say

I revealed my anger
Only good when not you
Couldn’t feel like the target
Didn’t know what to do

I revealed my past
Gave too many clues
Couldn’t understand the point
Didn’t like my views

I revealed my faults
The magic kept dimming
Couldn’t hear my excuses
Didn’t like my sinning

I felt you all run
When we faced the test
No longer a game
You wanted to best

Written: January 26, 2015


Sitting in my pain
Itching voices need release
Tears begin to flow
Frustration finds no peace

Calling out to the past
Still feeling its regret
No turning back the clock
No way to circumvent

Nothing can be undone
Bridges burned or set ablaze
Their ashes penetrate the earth
No blossom to be raised

Can you hear me?
Ghosts of my past
Why haunt me when I’m down?
You moved on long ago my dears
I doubt I’m haunting you somehow

Do you not care?
Please retire
Hell lies not underneath
But here where specters congregate
No shouting makes them dissipate

Sitting here you’re right beside
I feel you looking deeply
Crush my heart, souless foes
Your ghosts deny discreetly

Written February 26, 2015

Photo Credit: John Waterhouse, The Lady of Shalott (1888)

Quicksand Steps

I’ll push through each sinking step
To avoid the inevitable end

I’ll grab the vine hanging above
Keeping my head above the sand

I cannot yield
My will unabated
I need to be alive and well

Even if I paint on a smile
Taking deep breaths and slowing time
Before I react and shift the foundation
I will decide to combat my pain

As agonizing as it may be
I will dance in this density

Written March 8, 2015

Photo Credit: The Princess Bride


Take this piece here,

but if it’s not enough

There is plenty more where that came from

You! Take this slice
but just a little one

Gotta save my reserves for the rest to come

Now look at that –
I’m a little confused

Sending mixed messages that make no sense

Let’s revise a bit and I’ll explain
what it is that I really meant

I’m tired, torn, demanded, adored, renewed, reborn every day

It’s nice to feel loved and needed,
but it feels like I’m drained of my blood all day

At criticial depletion, more supplements arrive, something to save me from the brink

Of complete exhaustion, flash point tension, an endless communion of which I choose to drink

The boughs still break, the dam still bursts, fight or flight awakens dramatically

Always leaving behind a crumpled mess
Making me question my sanity

Soon enough, I come to my senses
And take in fully what I’m up against

I calm my voices, displace my fears
Then decide I’m doing my absolute best

Written October 22, 2015

The Past

Crying on my knees

Praying for deliverance
From phantoms in my room
Torturous penance

Reaching out to God

Change my situation
Heal me of my wounds
Bring to me salvation

Cries were not heard
The button on mute
Fingers in ears
My plight became moot

Depending on a being
To save me from my sadness
Slowly turned my world
To chaos and madness

Vicious wrestling
Torn in between a version
Of myself pre and post conversion


By those who once loved me
Unable to fit the mold prescribed
Venturing, I cross this pit

What was lost was gained
In humanity’s awareness
Accepting the “lost”
With justice and fairness
My father as gay
My sister apostate
My friends as not fallen
Erasing my hate

Erasing my “love” in
Righteousness’ name

I now hold to my candle
the burning flame

Written February 9, 2015

Photo Credit: The Persistence of Memory, Salvador Dali

Prodigal SonĀ 

Oh no –

You don’t get to have a case
A plea or grain of saving grace
Your pain did more than stay within
It bled to the innocent, expanded your sin

You’re forgiven now? Must be nice
That God has grace for your disgusting vice
No grace for my child, but what do you care?
You were able to release your inner nightmare

I guess he/she/it disregards what you did
Raising those arms in selfish praise
You don’t see the pain I see and feel
You don’t have the burden of a victim to raise

You took most everything from us
You and your co-conspirators
You spread your disease of power and lust
Take a long hard look in your crooked mirror

And face what it is that you have done
Instead of acting like the fucking Prodigal Son

Written March 10, 2015

Photo Credit: 1960’s Sad Little Girl… – H. Armstrong Roberts