like me. | a poem. 

I’m learning that few can be trusted when you’re honest like me.  I’m learning that there won’t be anyone in your corner when you decide things for yourself like me.  I’m learning that there’s no peace for people who stir the pot like me.  I’m learning that there’s no free speech when you’re loud like…

cold coffee. 

For the bajillionth day in a row, I looked down at the cup of coffee I made over an hour ago, reheated 20 minutes ago, and there’s still half a cup left. And it’s cold. Again.  Is it even worth heating a second time?  I say not. Because I’m a bit of a coffee snob…

my old friend. 

Writing is like an old friend of mine. I don’t blog even a fair amount anymore, but I do write always. I write about my feelings, events in my life, I take notes at church, etc, etc. But since I’ve become a mom of two and a homemaker, what I thought I’d have so much…