She couldn’t get out of bed anymore, except to use the bathroom, and that’s only because she was forced and shamed into it.

She would have just laid there and died, it’s what she wanted.

Living alone was never something she was cut out for, and she didn’t want to do it.

She’d spend the rest of her breaths wrapped in black silk waiting for her turn to go.

It didn’t matter that she had a child who needed her, friends and family who loved her, or work that fulfilled her – nothing mattered but what was lost and gone … Read the rest

They got him a new car every time he crashed his old one.

The kid was a speed demon, but they loved him no matter how reckless he was, no matter how casual he was with taking other people’s lives in his careless hands.

Trying to stop him was useless. He would have left home, he would have disappeared on them.

They would try to reason with him, they would tell him he might ruin his future (but not that he might die) and his only answer was:

“Speed never killed anyone. It’s becoming suddenly stationary, that’s what gets you.”… Read the rest

Forty-three years and I still feel like I am a child that is working hard on figuring things out on my own because no one cares enough to care for me.

I forgot to pay my taxes, I don’t know how to submit an insurance claim, I don’t know how to refinance my car, and feel like all I have to turn to is my new best friend Claude.

Is it ever really too late?

I mean, to become the person I want to be?

The sun is starting to set on this life, but I am not done yet.… Read the rest

The day winds down and you know you’re leaving work only to go home to try to answer the daily question of what the fuck is for dinner?

You’re glad to leave work, but going home has its own stressors.

There’s the child who chews with her mouth open, loudly. There’s the boyfriend whose loyalty you question. There’s the job you love but you’re terrified of losing.

But you open the door and there are flowers on the table; vibrant, bright, ferociously alive.

Their scent is a welcome assault; you breathe and smile.

You never know what’ll be a daymaker.… Read the rest

I didn’t want to fight. I wasn’t made for battle, I was made to sit on a throne and be quiet and pretty.

When my brother ran in, he was already mortally wounded and died in my arms.

His blood was the anger I needed to pick up his sword and fight back.

A rebel entered. Had I been empty handed, he may have left, but I was armed, and he engaged me.

His sword came down, and I saw the faces of my people in his blade.

I hacked and stabbed and finally killed him.

But all for nothing.… Read the rest