Writing frees me, yet chains me to Its command. Sending my mind racing and mouth salivating with urgency; And when I reach out, the words are torn from me, like a beast whose treat was ripped from its’ jowl. Each eraser mark, a tug on the chain. Punches and abuse, until my mind … Continue reading Chained Freedom
Tag: short
Christmas was a tradition. Every year, me, my sisters, my mom and my dad would pile into a car, sometimes with an accompanying dish or two, and make the hour drive to the house on the hill. It was a mansion. No, more like a castle. With its white stucco exterior and red tile roof, … Continue reading Grandma’s House
A girl and her wheels 