Sober Summer

Days Sober: 257 It is June 25, 2017. I am lying on the beach in Plum Island Massachusetts. My husband is next to me on the blue cotton quilt we have always used as a beach blanket. I look out to the jetty, it's gray and irregular rocks like long daggers, outstretched blades on either …

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Free Fall

My heart is free falling through space It feels light Airy Weightless Plummeting, spinning, somersaulting  Released from gravity's pull Like an inmate from her cell Free  Falling  I ponder how it will land I don't see bottom But I know that it's there Will it land with a thud  Will it be a crash  Or …

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A moment in recovery 

At my husband's Vivitrol shot this morning, the Physicians Assistant (who we love by the way) asked when he would decrease his nicotine levels for vaping. He told me in the car after: "I can't believe she is asking me about my nicotine levels, 7 months ago I was smoking a pack of cigarettes a …

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Epidemic 

We have a drug problem in this country. Crisis actually. It's so bad we have labeled it an epidemic. Overdose endings becoming more and more common.  Up on the hill, sitting pretty and safe atop golden thrones, they slash budgets, taxes, and vote on repeals. Making sure their own plans read EXEMPT.  Meanwhile. Down home. …

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Puddle 

It is raining here. I am not talking about the weather. I stepped in a puddle on the dry concrete-cracked sidewalk. Turns out that puddle is actually my heart. It just melted in the world's cruel sun. Now it's boot trampled and drip-drip-dripping into city street's schism. Gaping chest, I am soaked and I am …

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How do i tell you my husband is a dope fiend? 

How do i tell you my husband is a dope fiend?  Do I say it quietly or loudly? With a gentle caress or like a harsh stinging slap to the cheek?  How do i tell you my husband is a dope fiend?  Do I write it in a note with wet curving ink-pen strokes or …

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La Frontera

I am writing to you from la frontera, the borderlands.  I live in the desert. The vultures scream above me flapping wings, blizzard of feathers, revolting in the bleak sky. The dry heat envelops, wraps its arms around me, rocking and quieting me. Sunlight blinding. Atop white hot rocky formations, the heart is barren. I …

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Surface Lot

My husband is an addict.  Click, flame lights, tinfoil crackles, sharp inhale, lungs fill, smoke billows, brain floods, neck goes limp, pupils constrict. A man sits alone in a car in a concrete parking garage. The dome light inside of the car paints shadows across his face. Deepening the dark curved grooves beneath his eyes; …

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Cinnamon

A few things about me: my name is Taino Indian (indigenous Caribbean people of Puerto Rico living on the island when Christopher Columbus arrived and before the island was colonized) and means 'goddess of clear skies', I hate waste, especially wasting food, I love coconut, I am an avid coffee drinker, I love café con …

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One Day at a Time: Surviving The Colonial Fist 

This post is going to be all over the place, because, well, all over the place is how I feel. Balancing, teetering, floating, rocking, falling, standing, sinking, rising, I walk upon earth, through life. One day at a time.  My husband and I celebrated some personal victories last week. He is number one in the …

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