far away from sadness
so numb so far from glee
in crazy times, a touch of madness
knocks the strength in me
is that an island in your arms
a safe place I could be
it’s too soon to tell
I don’t know you well
hell . . .
I need love, but not any love.
you’ve got the warmest touch and such a gentle hand I’m afraid you’ll mean too much afraid you’ll make demands my knees fall weak to stand beside this strong and steady man it’s too soon to tell I don’t know you well hell …
When I was a kid, one of my Dad’s favorite songs was Johnny Cash’s “A Boy Named Sue.” My dad, a country singer himself, would waltz around the house endlessly singing this silly ditty about the woes of a poor guy whose dad gave him a girl’s name.
He sang the song to get to me because he was an incorrigible tease. You see, back then, everyone was always telling me my first and middle names, Avvie and Robbie, were also boys' names. At the time, they were right. Avvie (or its long-form Avalon, after my mom’s dad,) was a…
I’ve been pushing deathly darkness deep down in my gut for months now. The bleak black that sent me down the rabbit hole when I was 11 during my first bout with bipolar mood disorder returned about two and a half months ago.
That, combined with PTSD (an ongoing struggle for me) amid the latest round of lockdowns in my community, has made this latest bout of the blues a tough one.
Even so, I see a new light may shine across society about the struggles of those of us who live with mental illness. …
the lusty nights
the makeup sex
the childish fights
the shame that comes next
at last, are forever gone and done
for two who loved too wrong, too long
who steered their lives with lily-little, white lies
and weathered two-timing, stormy hearts
for far too long, for all, so wrong
all hurts on deck
the secret’s out
overboard and out
beyond the edge of all reasonable doubt
guilty as sin
for no relationship set sail on lies and salty tears
will stay the course in a shipwrecked affair
we, the faithless, unfaithful ones who shred our…
Gretchen Stine’s heart had been shredded so often she no longer longed for a love life that burst and exploded into rose petals, sparks, and Lizzo ballads. Though she had survived the three-year, sex-and infidelity-fest fiasco that fed her last round of heartbreak, now she wanted simple romance. As in almost and even dull.
She knew Eugene Waters was her “new” type the day they met. Any man who bordered on boring when he tried to retweet a meme about the President must be a safe and steady choice, she decided. …
The laptop you just bought glitched and keeps crashing. The linens you ordered are the wrong color. You got the first bill for your new phone plan and see charges for data the sales rep promised for free.
Nowadays, few of us can waste money, given the constraints of our “pandemic budgets.” Follow these steps for a speedy one-contact resolution to almost any consumer beef.
Imagine if you never saw the color green.
Yet other people kept telling you how wonderful it was to see green. They kept saying if you only saw the color green, it would heal you. If you could see the color green, you would be happy and contented.
Now imagine green is a belief you are worthwhile, not a piece of sh*t who does not deserve to exist. Welcome to my world, the world of a woman who’s lived through much trauma and been diagnosed with Complex PTSD. …
I’m afraid to lose my heart
so I guess I’ll lose my head.
Each heartbeat echoes saying, “tell him goodbye.”
When that’s the last thing that should be said.
These times we live in are so uncertain
and I’ve lived through such chaos before.
So I keep wondering,
because I’m waiting,
for the heartache to walk through my door.
I know each time I draw you close to me you smooth that emptiness inside away. But the questions running circles around my head, tell me my trust in love has died. So I find myself contriving to keep my true…
I’ve been a poet since I was five. Then after university, I worked at the Toronto Star as a journalist, editor, and public editor. Happier now, I write poetry.