Ode to My Pillow


My beloved Pillow, how I do miss thee when I am gone away.
Far from home and my own bed I miss thee.
Shall I count the ways?
There is not another that molds like thee to my simple dome.
None compare in gentleness or tone.
Only thee may cradle me swiftly to silent slumber.
However shall I sleep away from thee?
Nevermore, no never more

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Tis a Suicide Season


It was the night before a time that would be celebrated, of gifts and meals, no one should be stirring….no one should be awake. Yet, there I lay awaiting day break. Awaiting for no joyous occasion, no momentous holiday to lift this drear. No hope. No joy. Filled with loneliness instead of merriment am I. What is this and who is there? Jingle, jangle, jingle is the sound, the sound of silence in my head ring. All alone this festive day. Like every day….always and forever….why keep……trying……….what gift is there for me…..

Holiday seasons are some of worst for those of us who suffer from mental illnesses. Be kind, spend time, reach out – you could save a life. Happy Yuletide and Merry Christmas