In the Belly of Pandemic Spring

Last year,in the belly of pandemic spring,I was shut in. Walls warped,windows were eyes,and the chair in the corner stayed empty. All the words I wrote poured off the page;I had to scoop them up and paste them back on,like poison pen letters to myself. This year, I’m sitting in the empty chair,planning what I’ll […]

The Beauty of Scars

The world can’t change its heart of scars, they are tattooed on every inch: silver words of sorrow and hurt birthing poems from blood and dirt, reminding us where we began and giving hope that we might end in a place where everyone appreciates the beauty of scars. Kim M. Russell, 4th April 2019 My […]