Poetry is madness A ritual I do, but do not know.A night that conquers,Drunks me to helplessness.And it kills shame,Guilt. It hits you like an exploding racket.It shoots out you naked.

SANDRACharlie Brown had his littlered-headed girl and I had mine.We were both 18 and in oursenior year of high school.I was an abused child. Physically and sexually. I didn't date nor lookto hook up. I was scared and inhiding....

QUIRKY SOCKS Socks is an imaginary catthat I have had off and onsince childhood. The real Socks was a stray I found. His life ended abruptly inthe back of a garbage truckbecause of the sadistic womanthat I unfortunately called Mom. She said...