Hello my darkness

Hello my darkness it’s me again.

Awaiting warmth and deeper sin.

Goodbye light, you were too bright.

I’ll replace you now with fading sight.

Because missing you more this way.

Makes it easier not to stay.

Hello the darkness it’s been awhile.

Depression linked like perfect tile.

My old friend where have you been?

My old enemy, I cannot win.




Fun fact: Cactuses, while colorful decorative vegetation, make horrible barriers for basketball courts.

If your basketball happens to bounce and land into one it will pop and force you to buy a brand new ball.


Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is incredibly hard for me each year. As an adoptee, we try to find solace in what we have and not what we’ve lost. But it doesn’t matter if you are ten years old or forty, a part of you aches for the past you never knew. A past that was stolen from you as you were forced on a new path that might never have had to be.

We smile as we walk forward and read inspirational quotes about not looking back. We try to appreciate the glow and warmth of the sun on our face and not the coldness of our forgotten past on our back. For the abandoned, for the given away, for the sold, for those that know… it is never easy to remember the sun even when it is in front of your face.

I get the struggle.

I live it with a glass in my hand on this day. But we’ll be ok because we have to be, as it has always been.

We make our own path.



I could

I could count the rays of the sun, but why would I want to steal the light. Reminding myself of folding night, I look for the darkness from above. Considering the missing heartbeats between a thought, a glancing moment from the start. Trying to appreciate what moments are. From end to end, new beginnings and more.




Sometimes when you feel defeated at the end of the day it can be a reminder that we carry an internal burden heavier than an actual physical load.

That pressure in your head as you contemplate the ways you “could have done it differently” begins to build up steam until you might explode. You replay the day over and over instead of trying to focus on the next day. You lie awake at night berating yourself over what you should have done. And the next morning, tired and hungover from your self abuse, you lamely limp through your morning process and produce even less than the day before.

Because you’ve given up.

Refreshing your mind means more than realizing the scoreboard is in your head. It’s not real and normally the only one that knows you are losing is yourself.

Presenting the face of success is a lot harder than it sounds because it’s more than just an act. You have to believe it, you have to feel it, or it never shows. Letting go of defeat or the feeling of hopelessness, especially in corporate America, is hard to do. Just know that if there’s no tomorrow and the dice have rolled, at least there’s a new day for a new journey elsewhere.




I could push my words till they tumble and fall.

Watch them sparkle, or not at all.

Would they beckon, can you hear the call?

A clarion sound I hope you saw.

How much force would it take?

To make my words move and feel them shake.

To give them a life of their own.

To give them my life and make them shown.