As I continue my quest for maternity and baby stuff, I’ve finally decided to get a purse organizer. I have yet to see a diaper bag that I love and my humongous MZ Wallace tote is definitely large enough to be a diaper bag. Problem is it’s so large that I can never find anything in it. So, baby or no baby, I needed this organizer.
Six days and four hours It is I whom he devours Drunk one night Under the club’s lights I accepted a ride home Too intoxicated to roam First came the sweet talk So I wouldn’t baulk Then came the hand holding Vicious plan unfolding A lock of the car doors Inside the voices roar A knock on the head Felt as if I were dead When I came to Dread was all I knew “Surprise,” he said “My name is Fred” I cried and pleaded At home I was needed “Too late for that You be good, you little brat” Dark, damp, and cold A loose door is outlined in gold Screams go unheard My vision has been blurred Covered in urine and blood And shackled in this mud Hope is not lost on me Should I ever set myself free Up from this slippery floor And out of that locked door
Finally, I created a Facebook page for this site (please “like” and/or “recommend” my page so that I may beef up my online presence!!!). Part of the reason I did this was because I think some of my friends and family were tired of seeing my (at times) creepy poems on my personal page (which, clearly, are not “family-friendly” and some of my [personal] Facebook friends happen to be children). And also so that I can post little tidbits that I don’t post on this site (such as articles on writing, etc.). As you know, I do write children’s poems and stories but, this way (with this new Facebook page), I don’t feel like I need to censor my words. So, thanks in advance!
For those of you who don’t already know this, the New Yorker is giving the public three months (about two months as of today) of free content. So read to your heart’s content, folks. And don’t forget about the love story collection.