Sharing the love my words, half-sentences, plotless phrases, scribbled punch lines shred the papyrus, I dream on. you’ve, abandoned me to my own night terrors, like the time I told you about red rhinos riding religiously through Arabian deserts lush with greenery eating canaries and fried chocolate pies; you politely turned to me, smiled like …
Tender A little girl grabbing at the waves in her father’s fingernails, surfing her tiny hand into his, becoming an ocean of twined fingers that lap into his lap as her tiny brown eyes widen with wonder and asks: “Daddy, where have you been all my life.” © SB Joy, 2022 Have you ever noticed …
Abandon Books The Emotionally Abusive Relationship, Men Who Hate Women, and The Women Who Love Them, The Manipulative Man, Don’t Call It Love, Abandoned books stacked on the coffee shop table waiting – waiting for her to return. © SB Joy, 2022 True story from many years ago. SB Joy
Skinned A family can survive major pruning. The loss of parent, grandparent, child. However, a family tree can’t survive without its bark. The stripping away of my childhood’s outer layer. The intentional toughing up routines backfired, thinning the skin until raw and every word or touch burned like a bare light socket sunk into my …
Sour Words streamed from my eyes pooling into a paragraph of tangerines, lemons & limes. Oh, how I wish I never tasted you, Mother’s milk. © SB Joy, 2021 mother’s milk gone soured. SBJ
MOnsteR How is it I was terrified as a child and no one took notice? Most likely it was because those in charge of noticing were the monsters under the bed. They were the conundrum. Without them I would die, with them I may die. A child stuck in mid-air, weightless, unattached, discombobulated. What to …
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