a voice is freedom

The Beast Roared

Sometimes I get the very sad sensation that there are no words to say. Like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, madness beneath me, its’ hot breath pressing in around me, rushing in one ear and out the other with whispers of my life’s failures and futility. I can feel the weight ofContinue reading “The Beast Roared”


“Your medicine is working really well”, my husband told me recently. “You’re doing really well”. I told him thanks, and I’m okay, I think. I guess. But there is an undercurrent, a constant undercurrent. I try to explain it to him. It’s like the sound a shell makes when you hold it to your ear,Continue reading “Dreams”


I have hardly been able to function today. Visions, images, memories of my father flood my mind and I can’t escape them. I can’t escape them. They make me want to die, to crawl out of my skin and scratch my way out of this world just to escape the pain. I smoke a cigarContinue reading “Violence”


My brother died six years ago. I lit some incense tonight and I’ve watched it swirl and swirl and disappear, like his face, his voice, my memories. The thought makes me hate the smoke, and I hate the correlation I’ve just made. He will never be dead to me. Sometimes I have dreams, and IContinue reading “Smoke.”

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