spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
We sit across from one another at a little diner. The benches are real wood with ducks and hunting dogs carved into them and the cushions are a faded burgundy vinyl. Country western music plays out the speakers but we aren’t really listening. I’m… Continue Reading “Moments in Blue”
For nineteen years, I was beat and belittled into quiet submission. I was trained to understand I would never measure up. I laughed too loud, I talked too much, I read the wrong things, I didn’t fit in, I didn’t understand my peers. I… Continue Reading “Thoughts on a Windy November Afternoon”
I pull the sheets up to my chin. There are monsters here, but they aren’t out there. No, they reside within. Snapping their powerful jaws and flexing their pointed claws. They dig inside my brain and find all the worst parts of me. “You… Continue Reading “Under the Sheets, In My Head”
When I held him in my arms, he was so small. So small. I cried oh god how I cried. I asked, is there anything we can do? The doctor said, I’m sorry no, he’s just too small. I cried harder. Please, I’ll do… Continue Reading “So Small for a Love So Large”
When they placed him in my arms, he weighed nothing at all I didn’t even know how to hold him The moment I looked into his face, I felt something burst and bloom in my heart Something I had never felt before and never… Continue Reading “Memories in Withdrawal”
When I was in high school, Jeremiah was my best friend. I lived the farthest away from that rural school than anyone else, over in the next town. Every school morning my mom would drive me the mile from our house to the elementary… Continue Reading “The Release of Shame”
It’s in the middle of the night that I miss you most. Your body beside me. Soft and warm. When I could turn over and stroke your face, your throat, your belly. Your thigh. The dark hours becoming a tinge of grey near the… Continue Reading “In The Dim Light”
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Butterwell's Blog
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Poet and Artist ✫ Jay Mora-Shihadeh