Joy

I was four years old when I learned what “justice” means for victims in this world

I was barely two years old when I first started speaking up. My mother believed me; the system said I was too young. Not articulate enough. I could be confused. There wasn’t enough precedent to investigate. Two years later, I was four years old and finally considered “articulate enough.” I was interviewed a lot. I … Continue reading I was four years old when I learned what “justice” means for victims in this world

Joy

Bathtub poetry

If your thoughts should turn to death, gotta stomp 'em out like a cigarette - Bright Eyes --- I lay in the tub, warm and cold all at once, holding wine in my mouth like some kind of offering, unswallowed. This is his body, this is his blood, and who decided I had to drink … Continue reading Bathtub poetry

Joy

More quarantine poetry

Gee, it's almost like I had a theme during the panini. My yellow bird4/1/2020 You are the breath of several, but the glowing symbol against one:The dark person that lives inside my heart,She who drives my fears, insecurities, all that temptation to run away.She is behind every urge, fleeting or not, to throw my body … Continue reading More quarantine poetry

Joy

NaNoFailMo?

As is evidenced by my disappearance after that week 2 update, I didn't get terribly far in NaNoWriMo 2017. I'm not viewing it as a fail, though, because the work I did was substantially more than years past. I learned a lot about myself as a writer, my process, and what works for me (as … Continue reading NaNoFailMo?