sharon wischkaemper

My heart starts skipping beats inside my chest
like a child skipping stones across a pond of regrets.
Pillow soaked through with tears and sweat.
...

Again,
I kiss her lips
wipe her tears
make love to her body
...

I found you yesterday
exactly where I'd left you,
in an old shoe box on the far end of my crowded shelf.
It was the perfect place to place
...

The first time I recall him putting his hands on me I was three.

Me, with my legs split wide open like the Serengeti.
...

A collection of myths and legends,
written by men and women with imaginations that rival those
of the writers of Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.
...

You are my True North.

You are the ladder off the ledges I find myself on.
...