Sadness at the Salon

Toner is chemically changing the color of my hair

I try to respond to the voicemail with instructions for my daughters upcoming biopsy

I await a response from my professor to give me a fucking break and grant me a one day extension

I have to find a scanner I can use that will be available once I’m done here

Responding to my sons texts, he feels guilty he can’t be at the hospital this weekend because he has so much school work to do

I’m busy, getting shit done…multitasking at its finest.

The bastard tears seep out of me. I didn’t call upon them. I’m not even thinking of them. There they go. I’m the crazy lady that can’t stop crying.


going postal

words to describe my supervisor: 








Leaves me feeling: 






You allow the sociopath you work for to dominate you’re sad life, that does not give you the right to project your bull-shit on me!! Just because your job is the only thing you have in your life does not mean you should be completely inidffrernt to the needs of a student, with a job, and a family…you fucking clueless bitch. I hate working for you and I cannot wait to get as far away as possible from you so you can stop poisoning me with your anxiety and micro-aggressive passive aggressiveness. I am tired of your phoney-ass courteousness and I pray you never half-heartedly ask me how I am doing again because I know you do not give a SINGLE FUCK and it is evident in your fake ass smile and the shoulder shrug that comes when you are ready to move on to your own agenda. I have no one to call and I want to cry and bash this computer screen with the very keyboard I am typing on. You make me sick, mentally. I cannot put up with your fucked up shittiness anymore! Too bad the tornado did not rip this building down.


At 3:16 pm I mentioned his name

About the Xbox and watching that show,

“One piece,”

with his sister

3/16 is his birthday

I smile

It’s 3:17 pm now

It’s her birthday

My St Pattys day baby

My children

the twin souls

Of a Gemini mom

Born five years and a day apart


How was it? (journal excerpt)

Did I like it or did I fight you on that too?

I’ll never know.

It’s my own damn fault right?

Why keep being so excessive?

Set limits!

Pain from the injury to the inside of my lip where my teeth cut deep into my flesh is a constant reminder of my indulgences.

Is it his fault at all?

He was drunk too.

I’ll never know. I can’t remember shit.

I know, however, that I am responsible for me

Nobody else will protect me as best as I can protect myself and I need to start there

#917 “I miss you” 3/17/17

The spell wore off 

romance can’t compete with cramps

They scrutinize my insides wringing me dry

Waking from my daze the wonderment is prevalent 

Questions reiterate 

Again, feelings of betrayal creep back in 

Blasting beats to overcome the thumps from within 

My heart, my veins, my eyes swell and heave 

I bury the emotions to save face

Keep adding the checks next to my lists 

This waiting by for you won’t last 

I can’t continue to be so obtuse

Fear wearing off to face change and explain

The phoney naïveté my life has been 

truth be revealed

confrontation, depending on who it is may not be as easy as it seems

I can confront friends about bad relationships and call them out on their shit

I can phrase challenges and discrepancies to my clients

I can’t confront my husband about the mysterious “I miss you” text from an unsaved number he got though

Now it’s affecting everything

Every time he looks at  me I wonder if he’s thinking of more lies

Every time he shows me affection I wonder if he’s just trying to “throw me off”

I doubt every story he tells and every intention he’s had for the past forty eight hours

since I saw the words ” I miss you” light up on the fuckin I-watch I bought him

the unsaved NY 917 number brings back the vision of the picture of the woman in her underwear that was saved on the hard drive among our children’s Holiday band concerts

I am spiraling down

to a dark place again

Isolating in irritation and contemplation

uncalled for bad moods and shitty attitude’s are spewing out of me

can’t talk to anyone because he’s a prince in all their eyes and I can never dethrone him

I have too much respect for him

but does he respect me?

Is he lying to me? Is he cheating? Would he ever tell me the truth if he was?




The fifteen year old pregnant girl could not look into the future to see 

A good marriage 

A beautiful home 

Smart and able children 

All she could think about was how she was going to finish high school and go to college?

She wondered if what she had with her boyfriend was love or obligation?

She imagined a life in the hustle of NYC 

She couldn’t see the future 

She saw the looks, read the statistics, and disappointed her loved ones back then. 

I want to travel back in time to tell her she’s on the right path 

To encourage her on those dark days 

To let her know in twenty years, it’s all okay

We are happy, healthy, and love one another with the utmost loyalty, fortitude, & humility 

singularduality                    (a name acrostic)

Somehow I always manage to cycle around to these doubts and feelings

In a marriage there always seems to be

Needs and desires that go unmet

Guessing at the right way to convey

Unlikely to find the right setting or time

Longing in the process to just blurt out the words

Achingly I distance myself, going against the urge

Re-evaluating how I love, perhaps I give too much

Deeming that I deserve more protection, trust, and love

Unmet, is the sensation left again

Another year to weigh in, the writings tell the truth

Love isn’t always enough

Importance of loyalty is the message coming through

Thoughtfully I plan the next steps to take, as I consider my life and how it’s all about



love languages

I must remember to recognize when he is not speaking mine to me

He’s speaking his to me

He checks over the engine and vacuums the interior

I would prefer a back rub or a kiss

I am grateful, however, for the love he gives

Cause it’s mine and intended for me

from a thinker, not a feeler

to an extrovert from an introvert

which is why its hard for him to do



That was today? 

The kind of day that’s split and off kilter 

My morning broken down at home, where all I did was work.

To school I go to work. 

The homicidal and suicidal words spoken by the youth I hear impresses upon me in an eternal way. 

Anger, pain, anxiousness, and sadness are handed to me in pieces as I attempt to help the babies put their puzzles back together

There’s a sick kid I must lay my own eyes, hands, and voice upon at home.

I need emotional support that I feel none of them are strong enough to give. 

Off I go to be a master. 

I cry in the car when suddenly, there’s a Jeep Wrangler blazing in flames on the side of the road. 

The universe placed me in Group Counseling class this night and I shared that there was no material thing I’d run back in the burning house for. 

And upon my return home, my two answered the same.