I can't tell the story because I'm on the ceiling again and this time it feels like my body is pinned to the fluorescent bulbs and the light is pouring through me as I slowly turn invisible.
Trauma follows me wherever I go. It likes my attention...wants me to let myself get wrapped in it's claws...consent to it's talons tearing through my skin...participate in the letting of my soul's blood. Trauma and I are inseparable. It likes to stand so close to me that it looks as though we share the same … Continue reading #metoo
Sometimes, late at night when I should be asleep, I remember. I remember how I used to be…when things were bad…when I was a bad little girl… And I wonder…if I could talk to her…what would I say? I should say…the things I was taught to say to her… I’m so sorry you’re hurting. It’s … Continue reading Dying To Forget
She turned around at the door. “Hey - did you know R?” I shook my head, but then again, I barely remember anyone from back then. My husband dug into his vast memory of names and faces and found her there, somewhere between rehab and that long year of sobriety. “Of course I remember her. … Continue reading A Tribute
“Cleveland, Cleveland, convention in Cleveland….Convention ‘97 will last forever……” Ringing in my ears as an unwanted memory, the BY Convention song my mother wrote fourteen years ago plays in my head like a broken record. I guess she got it right - about it lasting forever and ever and ever…but how I wish it would … Continue reading Oh The Places I’ve Come From
"There should be a movie about it. With characters like Motti, Duvy…Shmully…not Chasidish, no Joels - just real Boro Park Yeshivish kids." I nod. I'ver heard this before. "We were punks. I don't get it. What was wrong with us?" "It wasn't that bad. There weren't turf wars or crack houses." "Yeah - but we … Continue reading The Meaning Of Mumcha
He sits with the demons in his head, watching the world go by as he waits for salvation. The metal pumping through his ears reminds his heart to beat. Sweet nectar of oblivion passes his lips greedily and soothes his insatiable thirst for love. He is fiercely loyal to these streets he sits on. He … Continue reading And Then There Were Two