snowy sounds/sledding


Not a sound is made as the flakes fall from the clouds.

No pitter-patter, no ping or plunk.

It piles high, inch upon inch, insulating the ground below.

You step outside your cozy home

And the silence is earth-shattering.

You grab you sled, and trudge up the hill.

As you sit to slide down, the stillness strikes you again.

Pushing off, the sound of the sled against snow

Thunders, the wind howls in your ears.

The friction becomes too much-

The sled slows to a stop.

You catch your breath.

And the silence quakes again




Do you know what if feels like?

I do.

To be in a mentally abusive relationship.


Yes, mentally abusive.

He was depressed, he was suicidal.

He didn’t try to hurt me.

And when he asked,

I was doing fine.

I was strong.

I was the only reason he was alive.

Yeah, he told me that.

But I was strong.

Not strong enough to see what he was doing to me.

Because I loved him.

And he loved me.

I was fine.

He was in the hospital;

I told everyone he was sick.

Well, he was.

And soon I would be too.

But until then,

I was happy.

Sort of.

I thought I was.

But I was wearing down.

I was becoming a shell:

empty to hold his issues,

protective to keep us both alive.

I wasn’t suicidal.

I couldn’t be.

I couldn’t do to others what he did to me.

So I stood on that bridge

even when he wasn’t there,

just in case.

That’s really what wore me down–

balancing there was exhausting.

At any moment

I could have fallen.

But as soon as I left,

he would be on the bridge instead.

And he would fall for sure.

I couldn’t leave.

After all, I was the reason he was alive.

So I stayed,

and prayed he would ask me to leave

before I fell off,

head first,

into the dark waters below.



I think I have a problem

with thinking too much

all at once.

I can’t seem to organize

the thoughts in my head

into words.

What is this maddness

of thoughts and ideas

waiting around

to be shared,

to be expressed,

to go somewhere.

But they stay

until maybe, someday…