I’ve flirted with madness, snuck a few of his cigarettes but these brief interactions were always somewhat respectful one-night stands, everyone returning to their assigned places once the sun began to rise again. The rules have changed.
I quickly learned that Christmas in real life, was far different from the idea of the day that had been sold to me in psychedelic children’s cartoons
I’ve been listening intently to the rhythm of the breathing beside me for hours. I count, calculate, triple check, make sure the breaths signal deep slumber and not just the mere pretence of it. I feel the firm bed of carpet beneath me as I roll painstakingly slowly onto my side, my heart thundering in my ears and I pray it isn’t loud enough to wake the monster sleeping in the bed beside me. (click image to view full post)
I'm fourteen and still spending time in the hallway of my residential unit almost every night, petrified and alone, waiting for the safety of morning to come so I can retreat back to my room and try to sleep. (Click image to read post)
A short piece about my experience in the first foster home I went to after my mother died. This is a pretty heavy one. (Click image to view the post)