Tag Archives: loss

A Rape Victim’s Memory

She knows there are some things a body must forget like the feel of a stranger’s hand prying knees apart like a stubborn door whose hinges scream out for oil or the rancid smell of breath brushing her neck, presenting … Continue reading

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The Phone Call

She thinks, I wonder if her knew before he left. I mean, did he have any idea before he left the house that day. Did he know that he would murder a mother’s soul, an unknowing mother who always knew? … Continue reading

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A Pain to Swallow Your Own

The silence was enough to drive us all mad. It would have too if we had not finally stopped breathing. It echoed in our brains, this forlorn silence, as we felt the blood draining from our bodies. They would say … Continue reading

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Empty Spaces

Last night I dreamed that I was in my grandmother’s house, a place I no longer go since she passed away. I was staring out the kitchen window. Someone I recognized in the dream, but not when I woke up, … Continue reading

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Dying Flower

Deep down there’s a place where I have learned to suppress desires, to let them wither and die My silent suffering is rooted in the fragile leaves of a dying bloom. Peace & Love, Rosalind

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Mother Earth

The earth swallows our dead whole. It closes its jaws tight on our grandmothers and mothers like love and they are lost to us. We mourn their deaths, refuse to let go as if though Death doesn’t have a hoarding … Continue reading

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Thirteen Steps to Completely Disappearing from Life

“I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted/ to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.” — from “Tulips” by Sylvia Plath “For love is held by a chain of obligation which, men being selfish, is broken … Continue reading

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The Struggle for Goodbye

How many times can you say goodbye? By my count, so far, approximately 1,216 times. I’ve been keeping count daily, drawing tally marks across the surface of the passage of days. I’ve been stamping, ever so lightly, tiny goodbyes all … Continue reading

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The Lovely Bones

The lovely bones bear the scars of love. I keep trying to bury the bones but they keep rising to the surface. The living stand in place unable to move on until the dead release them. So, I carry around … Continue reading

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Leave the Bones

There are ill-formed dreams on which I can no longer stand. They have become the wilted flowers that languish in vases on cemetery grounds. No one waters the flowers. The flowers are forgotten as quickly as the ones who died. … Continue reading

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