spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
would have been, in days past, that the arguments and pain and hurtful words would have thrown me into a spiral. envisioning red ribbons across pale flesh and splashes of life (precious) dripping onto bathroom tiles. forget the sharp blade, I’d reach for the… Continue Reading “Red White and Blues”
Sign of the times… at least neither of them had matches or a can of spray paint. But seriously, I love watching the wildlife. Whether it’s napping or eating or kicking up their heels or boxing. Who needs tv when you have real life?!… Continue Reading “Watch the Fur Fly”
first comes the tugthe jagged little tuga rip and a tearunstopping the cork-pop!-careful selectionno.. no… n— ah yestwisting, shredding, packingcarefully readying then comes the burnhow bright! how bold!hungry, painfully hungryseemingly unsatisfied untilsuddenly giving way to fullnessa wisp of memoryhow can such a small sparkbeget… Continue Reading “Hole in One on the Green”
The other day I went to clear out my search history on Google, as I do occasionally, and as I read my recent searches, I began to giggle. It stuck with me and I thought, I know I’m not the only one… And I… Continue Reading “Search History”
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”
in the far reachesin the arid desert \of the soul/a whipping wind rises and fallsmoving grains of sand with little efforthardly barrenthere is life -though sparse-which takes refuge here or therea lone cry rises in the ear of a desert fox kitand suddenlywe know… Continue Reading “What’s Real, Though?”
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Butterwell's Blog
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