Three little words

That's all she wanted

Just three little words to make her feel

pretty

All the fuss, the pomp

The ritual of it

Just three little words to validate her effort

"You smell intoxicating"

But I couldn't

I couldn't do it

I couldn't give her that affirmation

Because I can't fucking smell

So don't hold it against me

I wish to bring other characters to life through acts of theater.

My preference is doing this through my voice, but being present in the moment works too.

Stories I have been told by those involved in this art have enriched my life, and I want to enrich lives too.

There's nothing like being someone else, yet learning so much about yourself at the same time.

To do this is my dream, my goal, my calling, my destiny....

I surrender and let go of control, instead…

sat down, and

watching the evening orange sun-gold

slowly unravel its ineffable magic upon the

ebbs and flows of ocean flowers.

First withered autumn leave falls, while

soft red strawberries are still blossoming.

Pacing down some self perfectionism meddling works,

until everything about the self start taking on

a soft rosy cozy glow,

Every stubborn edge of my character and

harsh self criticism are all churning into

some smooth humming of

a sweet nightie-night

prayers to the heart…

And all the binary inner speech or bipartisan emotional games within the head

can finally shake hands...

Children of the earth—

we are so deeply loved and greatly cherished by

the divine creator.

Where I am from

I am from my monkey,

From bubble gum, Tional, and flower pots.

I am from running around and tripping my sister,

And a big flat house.

I am from a rose bush,

Whose beauty we left behind when I moved.

I am from my brown football, and my Tierra from my first birthday,

From Kaila, and Brian.

I am from nail biting and migraines,

And biting lips.

From lots of energy.

I am from magic.

I am from Jessie and Elizabeth from

Rice, beans and tomato soup

From fishing

And from flying airplanes in the marine,

A little brown horse too!

I am from those moments living my life as full as can be.

Cold, scrawny fingers

Like flesh-covered ice

Tell me for everything

There is a price.

They slip underneath

My shirt, then my bra

My emotions have never

Been nearly this raw.

She grabs and rubs,

She takes off my shirt

I stand there, alone,

Confused and hurt.

I know that she shouldn't

Touch me this way,

She should be baking

And teaching me to play.

Her hands slide down

My sides, I cry

As she brings a hand

Between my thighs.

Grandparents should never

Treat grandchildren this way,

But I guess this is

The price I pay.

Coming to her house,

Reminded I'm trash,

My mental health

Starts to crash.

Though I haven't seen

Her face in years,

Those fingers, like ice,

Still sometimes bring tears.

The memory of her

Hands on my skin

Will haunt me forever

From deep within.