Working full time mom,

Not a moment of silence. 

This for me is just something doodling brought me to create, I by no means am any kind of drawer. Day to day, seems like a broken record, stuck on repeat. Happiness and dreams being complete is just barely in reach and each day seems a little closer but always out of grasp. 


Mom life

50 hour weeks, 20 hour daysHome sweet home 

Dinner and daze.

Bed time soon

We’ll take a bath

Let’s read a story,

“Yes baby it’s alright”

Close your eyes

It’s time for nuh-night 

Yay! It’s Sunday,

Time for mom to get to play

Oh wait, it’s laundry day 

Washing folding putting away

The dishes are now done,

The kitchen I’ll stay

Breakfast, dishes, lunch and snack

Floors and cabinets 

That is that

On to the bathrooms 

Get a gas mask 

“Can you get off your sister”

Bleaching, mopping

Time for naps

Time for mom to relax

Is this it?

Is this it?

Your negativity, its killing me.
The pain it’s causing,

I wish you would see 

I love you more 

than you could dream.

But in reality we should leave. 

They say you can’t force love,

I wonder if I have been trying?

Our dreams were once tied,

now seem to have tangled and torn.

Your emotionless

 except anger and scorn.

The man we love, 

I know is inside…

We can’t wait forever 

for him not to hide.

Build this life with me.

Make it all it can be.

Family, friends, normalcy.

Let’s take this ride,

and see.

Realistic Fantasy

 On looking small brave white caps brushing the shells on shore. 

Is it me or is fantasy what I adore? 

White painted shutters n picket fence guarding all that is sacred. All we’ve worked so hard to endure. 

Is it me or is fantasy what I adore?

Solid cathedral doors entering into an openness of antique sovereignty. 

Is it me or is fantasy what I adore?

Rustic spiral ballroom staircase off to the left, dining hall fit for royalty to the right.

Is it me or is fantasy what I adore?

Master bedroom, Cali king sleigh, open botanical waterfall dripping as we speak.

Is it me or is fantasy what I adore?

Laughter echoes down the photo filled hall, little girls dancing, getting ready for a ball. 

Is it me or is fantasy what I adore?

Down through the kitchen, out the back door, the chicken coop, calm and peaceful, the pond silent but so alive. 

Is it me or is fantasy what I adore?

Soon it won’t be fantasy anymore. 

´╗┐Horrid nightmare

Afraid of what’s lurking in the dark. 

Is it him? Or just a shadow in the wind? 

The door creaks open, a scream escapes. 

But soon enough, I’m bound and gagged. 

Squirming, screaming, trying to run, muscles tensed, not yet undone. 

And still.. No one comes, hears the noise, or do they even care? 

Now he’s gone, with his sick little joys. 

Hiding in the bathroom, all doors are bound. 

No words, no sounds escape my mouth. 

Morning comes, no story is told. Secret stares keep the nightmare fresh. 

The day moves on, she runs away, not even one person can see her pain. 

No more trust, not youn not old. No more trust, not friend or foe. 

Together Again

This poem I wrote in high school and was published then in a “Celebrate” book. I just thought it would be fun to share. 

The pain I see in your eyes, it just kills me inside. 

All day long, and through the night, I wonder if you’ll be alright. 

To tell you I love you, I wish were a lie, because inside only can I hide. 

To show my feelings is like nudity, it’s something people rarely see. 

Not many people know me, and only you can see. 

Not telling a soul or saying a word, you understand so perfectly. 

My light is gone, but in our song, friends we will never, together again.