Short Stories – Poetry – Creative Nonfiction
I tread through the concrete jungle, hot and wilted like a neglected plant. My brow sweats with exhaustion as my cracked lips beg for moisture.
The irony is not lost on me.
I’ve been walking for two days now.
The sun browns my skin as I find a shaded stoop to rest.
I slide my knackered body back against the cracked, split door.
This place is familiar.
It takes courage to stand by your convictions: creatively, spiritually, and otherwise.
Short Stories - Poetry - Creative Nonfiction
mostly poetry, partly peculiar.
Street Shooting In Boston
I write so that my healing may bring healing to others.
... and classic rock too!
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Not your usual nature haiku
An alcoholfree journey in New Zealand with a twist
about grief, grace, and recovery from addiction
a blog for memoir writers
Musings on Life, Love, and Linguini
My awesome views on awesome and not so awesome horror
Getting through this journey of sobriety and life's obstacles in the only way I know how.
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Muse, tell me the deeds
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