My recollection of childhood is sketchy.
I remember hiding on the upper steps of the staircase in a house, peering down at the commotion. My 30+ year old father had strips of red on his bare back, as he screamed and shouted at his elder sister who inflicted those wounds with a cane, I think. 206 more words
Holding Onto the Past
i could not hold onto the past
i let it sail away
it tried to chain me to the mast
i could not hold onto the past… 157 more words