Writing became a perfect medium for me to define trauma in my own way.  Oftentimes, I didn’t even know I was writing about trauma–just sharing a story or poem.  Below provides worded images of self-healing, I believe…

Reflections; Child Abuse

I was 16-years-old when I wrote this dark, foreboding piece.  It was decades before I realized I had been writing about my own abuse.  Back then I titled it ‘Passionate Death’ Flames shoot through the darkness Yet the darkness is not there. Passion erupts… Continue Reading →

A Fly That Flew

 A bit of fun with words.  I hope this makes you laugh.  It was, after all, my intention.  For me, this was a respite from the seriousness of Life.  I chuckled all the way through the write.  Probably a Hell… Continue Reading →