Dear Mom


I love you mom, but you fucked up

You should have left his ass

That miserable drunk


I love you mom, anyone could have seen

You facilitated his demons

Gave him the resources to be apathetic, violent, simply mean


I love you mom, but I think you’re a coward

Afraid of being alone

Unwilling to defend those you’ve flowered


I love you mom

Sometimes I just want to say

That I hate you for all the beating you let come my way


I love you mom, that will never change

I know life was hard for you

We shared that pain


I love you mom, and it hurts me to say

You fucked up because didn’t give me away

When to Burn Everything

Writers struggle with this more so than artists working in visual mediums.  It’s understandable.  We spend days, weeks, on a single project before we realize things aren’t going as planned.  A trap many of us fall in is thinking a massive revision will fix it.  In some cases, this is true.  Things like potholes, character arches, can and should be worked over.  But when the overall story seems lacking, or, it just doesn’t fit your initial idea, delete everything and start over.  Continue reading




I bleed so I cannot think of you

Pain so fierce nothing else has room

It is here I wish to live

In this haven of constructed wounds


Phantoms persist beyond flagellated walls

Malignant moments forever bound

Images rapacious and destructive

Destruction you claimed I called down


Steel can feel warm

A comfort of sorts

For whenever in pain

Bad things distort


Inevitably it fades

Endorphins mask what stings

If only they could relive real trauma

Relief only a medicinal bullet can bring