Money money

ease this pain,

help me gain

an ounce of happiness,

the fleeting, unnerving

undeserving kind,

the sweet surface-level lies

soon to despise,

temporary bliss


slipping through your fingers



un-felt kind.

Money money

fill this hole

though I know

in my soul

it doesn’t matter,

doesn’t mean much of anything at all,

What Money Can’t Buy,

what I need I can’t find,

it’s the sad truth,

the important things in life,

sometimes don’t come to you.


Can’t believe in gods,

who let men birth these children

hold their babies in their arms

breathe in their smell

feel the innocence of life

only to steal

precious moments away

to leave them barren

without fathers

lost to wander


childhoods and lives

asking why

to no avail

having finally received

the gift of life

to have it violently


ashes to ashes

never witnessing the growth

just slow decay

as fathers




never to bear



baby girl



let go



You let your hair grow long–

Dry curly bristles reaching

for the sky.


You let unruly scruff


your face, your chin, your

semi-circled fuzz,

you let it grow.


You wore a sleeveless shirt,

bearing muscles,

groomed and tended



You let yourself GO,

or BE

so ethnic and menacing.

crying in front of your coworkers

Today I cried in front of my coworkers. I have a vague sense of never going back–can’t take away the awkwardness of it all. And I’m not talking watery eyes or tears streaming down my cheeks. I’m talking full out can’t catch my breath on the verge of a panic attack all out sobbing.

Somehow, when you’re feeling really really awful and barely holding it together, someone always asks if you’re okay. Well, I don’t look or feel okay, but I’m trying to keep it together. And now that question is what breaks the dam and sends the floodgates opening.

I’m embarrassed. Like really embarrassed. But also drained from the emotions of it all.

Eleven years ago today, my mother passed away. I was twenty. She battled cancer for four years, and lost.

This morning was okay until my brother sent an email that was nice–he had a dream about my mom and he said she’s always in his heart and that eleven years ago today we lost someone special. Well, that email did it. That email triggered the first of many hysterical crying sessions.

So now here I am writing about it and trying not to feel bad. I know it’s not shameful, people have emotions and sometimes we all lose it. But I don’t like to be that vulnerable, I don’t like to be that exposed, around anyone let alone people who I work with. It’s personal. It strikes to the very core of who I am, and it destroys the happy girl facade I work to maintain everyday.

So that’s it. I cried in front of my coworkers, quite hysterically, and now I’m hoping writing about it will somehow make it better. Well, sadly it hasn’t. I really just need this day to end.