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Today I wrote a letter to someone I lost contact with ten years ago.
and the fear smack,
fingers from the mailbox
when the envelope is inch, inches
from being sent as the voice warns
I’ll look a fool, but my gut, guts
rumble insistently with truth
much big-drum louder
than the ever-present fear;
that this is
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I am a Webkinz addict.
There, I admitted it.
I am also fifty-two-years-old.
& I have never really cared for stuffed animals.
Anyone with a school-age daughter probably knows what Webkinz are and I’ll bet some of you mothers go online (presumably) to ‘take care of’ your daughter’s Webbies. For those of you t
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The waiting is what kills you. That is a lie. It is the cancer that kills you.
The valium has begun its slow spread, thawing fingers, toes and the end of my nose. Nerve endings have gone from wide-mouth sandpaper screams to squeaks and groans and my mind is beginning to focus on how statistics are in my favor.
Th
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Why I talk funny… and walk funny sometimes
For years before my diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis, I noticed my speech slurring and it annoyed me. I had no control over it and it became worse when stressed or tired. I sounded drunk.
Then there was the way I was walking. Usually off-balance, tipping to one side or t
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