Stuck against the wall

by the sound of this voice

Pinned by the will

I lack, the choice


Pieces of time

etched on to my skin

Time shall reveal

all my wounds

and lies


It is the desire we forego

For the want we need

The two birds in the bush

We devour for feed

It is the lie we cover

by painting our skin green

Swallowing our pride

To promote our greed


Sometimes I wonder how powerful a touch can be. do we give pieces of ourselves over with slight touches that transfer bits of our being to skin. just a thought.


I have so much on my mind right now, it’s crazy. I’m anxious. hella nervous. About a lot of things. Including pulling off this book signing. Introducing this book. Getting ads out there for the businesses.


I decided to give myself permission

not to be subject to someone else’s

small-minded scrutiny

If you can’t see the brilliance

I exude

you can’t see


The majority of what we feel about ourselves

is dictated to us by people we never know


Do they want it or the the way the it makes them feel?


Tag, I’m it.