The ones spouting all lives matter Knowing damn well they’re not targeting you Would be silent in the holocaust Simply because you’re not a Jew …
One of these days, my sons I’ll have to let your hands go When you’ve grown strong and wise And I’ve imparted all that I know … You’ll be amazing men, my sons Greater than all who came before With hearts of flowing liquid fire A faith that stems down from your core … My … More My Sons
Your deeds may be forgotten Lost in the sands of time But your memory lives on forever Your legacy will always shine
It’s over Just stop Move on Let it drop …
If my love is what you’re seeking You know just where I’ll be On a mountain top at sunrise To the West you can always find me
Wednesday, July 12, !989 at 12:15 AM, a 22 year old woman, gave birth to her second child and first son. The single survivor of a pair of twins she had never and would never want, me. My mother, Wendie, the narcissist.
I have never been fond of my hair. I have always kept it really short in order to keep it manageable. As an individual with mixed ethnic background, my hair has always been an object of contention in the prejudices of my family. A dead giveaway that I did not belong.