Painting with the ashes Speaking what is dead.Writing out the sorrowInstead. Not the bloody distanceToo close to know it’s real.Writing out the sorrowTo feel.Drinking down the ashes.No one says a word.Writing out the sorrowUnheard.Beauty chases embersPraying for a light.Writing out the sorrowTonight.
Wild is the ocean. Where expanse swallows October. Ravens circle, they know the time. When the swell dips too low. And the peaks shoot high. The season when even careless shipmen practice wisdom. They’ve heard, they’ve learned, that our journey will end under the world. The water is made for drowning. We know it, It… Continue reading Where we Float, The Ocean Wild
Hands in her lap. Eyes clenched shut. Black swells of emotion rush from deep behind her eyes down to the pit of her stomach. Sketchy scenes replay from her past as if from a damaged filmstrip. Shameful thoughts and conversations bring an uncontrollable shudder from the depths of her soul. For a second, she lets… Continue reading Broken is Not Enough
He was tired. Of running. Of caring. Of worrying. He was just so tired. A sliver of shade from a dying tree was the only place he could find to rest. But it wasn’t real rest. He just couldn’t move anymore. It all had been too much. Exhausted. Dry mouth and out of breath. It… Continue reading Get Up and Eat
She wondered how long she had been there. It started to feel like a long time only because her feet began to ache. But she could not stop her endless march down the shiny laminate paths. One foot plodded in front of the other as she tried not to count her steps. She was not… Continue reading Still Walking
Can I use the phone? A shaky voice appeared from behind an oversized bush while I was eating. Under the glowing lightbulbs, it appeared like this was the only place on earth still awake. She didn’t scare me, her gentle approach made it clear that she was more afraid than I should be. It's just… Continue reading Questions for a Silent God
When summer is over, and the morning chill stands close by. And the years should be counted, even though they slip slower. And faster. Because the heaps of memory build up the pressure. Time, remembrance, meaning, waste. When had the yester turned into being. The now, the will, are losing their luster. Because too many… Continue reading Love Doesn’t Work, Sometimes
More than 3 decades have passed. I know only because the marks are scratched into the wall next to where I try to sleep. Sometimes I stare at those crooked lines, losing myself in the valleys of shadows and dust trapped in those tiny crevices. Sometimes I stay up too late counting each slash; remembering,… Continue reading Imaginary Bondage
She took a deep breath to calm the sick feeling deep in her stomach. Happy faces glided past the windows outside, but she was safe and invisible behind the tinted glass. She glanced down at the faded flower dress that she found in the back of her closet this morning. It wasn’t nearly as pretty… Continue reading Broken Promises
She took a deep breath and took hold of the peeling shopping cart handle. One arm battled to bend her daughter’s leg, while the other arm hoisted the baby awkwardly above the metal basket. Anchoring one foot behind the closest wheel to keep the cart from rolling away, she wiggled the uncooperative little girl into… Continue reading Solving the Struggle of Mom
Cindy Koch 