by Eric Morris

I know what you’re telling me,

That I’m broken, my mind is ailing me.

But the treatment you’re selling me?

It’s not curing me,

It’s killing me…

The pain helps me thrive.

Destroy myself to create,

Create just to stay alive.

The spirituality of my reality

Is a demon of duality,

An angel’s smile

Hides linguistic brutality.

This sanctified evil

Is quite a curious mentality.

And you’re the cat

That would kill the curiosity

As you offer me

My daily chance at normalcy,

150mg of time-release sanity,

A pill to kill the ill

And restore the humanity.

I don’t want it!!

You say I need it.

The disease must be treated,

The beast must be defeated,

The cure must be completed.

I can fit the world’s aesthetic

And keep it copacetic,

Only slightly (a)pathetic.

That’s not me.

My personality

Isn’t free,

It’s been caged by an MD

Who’s blind to what he can’t see.

How can I willingly

Deform what’s inside of me

For only an opportunity

To be acceptable to society?

This is my choice.

I have a voice

That will not be silenced

By your fear of verbal violence.

To medicate

Is to saturate

My riot with a quiet,

To know salvation and deny it.

A prescription pill diet?

You’re trying to sell it

But I won’t buy it.


by Victoria Edwards

I stay still and calm as the warm bright crimson washes over me.

Its warmth strengthens me as I follow all day long.

I am planted into the ground ready to learn from his mist of righteousness.

My golden petals fall with the wind that keepeth me straying.

I look to the sky to find my shining hope for direction.

As I lose track of my daily design,

My bright crimson Sun never fades,

He stays in continuous motion to show us the way of beauty.

I will be glad to see His shining glare of hope and grace one day

Whenever it’s time for me to depart.

I am grateful to have met the peaceful sounds of the waves,

That they showed me the correct path to follow.

The shining crimson Sun of hope and grace that I now follow as my King.

I am in their debt for saving me, I only wish I could repay them

For all the things they have done.

February 24, 2020


by Victoria Edwards

I sink into the sand alone and cold underneath the silent starry sky.

I waited desperately to hear a word from them.

But time grows slow with the emits of despair.

Alas, the weary stars will not speak to me, as I follow an uncertain

Path that lies before me. I wish I could have asked my last faithful plea, as I fall

Deeper in the cold unforgiving unknown.

I should have known this day would come, as I sink ever farther into the ground.

I could hear peaceful sounds of waves coming closer to grasp ahold of me,

To save me from what is to come.

I follow its kind relaxing voice showing me where to go.

With a weary uncertainty, I closed my eyes and listened.

I followed their words of hope and found myself above the sand

Not sinking into despair.

From a kindness that saved me from a terrible mistake, I now walk with open eyes.

I found myself looking up at the starry sky once again, smiling with a mist of joy.

Finally hearing them speak for the very first time.


by Jennifer Dennison

7 days ago, I looked into a mirror and a Stranger was looking back,

7 days ago, the life I had been living had become only clothes in a sack.

7 days ago, my head was confused, everything was a blur,

7 days ago a voice inside my heart screamed out for help, and was very clearly heard.

7 days ago, I surrendered it all, and with tears in my eyes, I made that life-changing call.

7 days ago, I was terrified, ashamed and lost.

7 days ago, I realized what had become the ultimate cost.

7 days ago, I stepped through those doors, gave up that devastating demon, and said No More!

7 days ago, I heard other stories of regret and remorse.

7 days ago I found the path, others on the same journey, and I began to learn the tools to help me stay on course.

7 days ago, I opened my heart and cried in front of complete strangers, I told them about my disease, my mistakes and my anger.

7 days ago, I gave it all up and took it all in, No one judged, criticized, or condemned.

7 days ago, I faced my shame and my strife.

So today, 7 days later, I want to say Thank You to YOU, the woman that saved my life!

*This poem was written at the end of my 7-day detox treatment. I want to dedicate it to all of you that are finding yourselves and staying sober!*

Jennifer D.


by Jacqueline Wheeler

A crochet hook is a connection, a healer, a creation and at times even an emotion. Others may view a crochet hook as a piece of metal that varies in size, color and even style, used in knitting or crocheting a textile art. This is a true description of one. However, in my hands it’s just a little something more. 

When I hold a hook in my hand, I am not a 30-year-old woman. I am a small child sitting on the floor at her Great grandmothers’ feet with hook and string in hand learning the fundamentals of crocheting. The proper way to hold the hook the best way to hold the string tight. A double stich is starting with one loop on your hook and looping the string again to create two loops, working your hook under another stitch to loop the string again and pulling this string threw the under stich and one loop leaving two loops on the hook. Then looping the string again and pulling that string threw the two loops leaving one loop on the hook completing the stich needed. Even the trick of remembering to add a single stich (one extra loop) before turning your corner. Otherwise your perfect square will start to shrink and become misshapen. Even more than just the need to knows of crochet I am also laughing and joking, making memories with someone who will not always be on this earth. And every time I hold that hook, I’m right back to laughing with my Great Grandmother because my square is not so square. And seeing that smile on her face because I was keeping my work tight in my stitches, while holding my already done work loose to prevent tension on my string.

I also suffer from P.T.S.D. I have moments of extreme anxiety and depression. Over the years I have learned to cope with it for the most part. I have found the most effective way to calm down and heal from an attack is to pick up a crochet hook and just loop string repeatedly never really making anything particularly. The repetitive motion of looping the string with my hook until the only think I can think about that motion. Some people are known for breathing deeply or counting to 10 to relax and calm down. I crochet, doing something with my hands to distracted me from the over whelming feelings I have going on in my head or even my chest at times. Focusing on something outside of my own body is the key and crocheting over and over till my mind and sometimes my body is healed from an emotional attack is the greatest way I have found for coping with my illness.

I also do it as a hobby. Where I just pick up a hook and make a blanket for my Husband. A beanie for my daughter or a baby blanket for my nephew. Where I can just be creative with my string colors and patterns and just create and be expressive. The feeling I get when I have accomplished a project, or the feeling I get when a loved one is excited for something, I took the time to make just for them. Being able to pass on the same experiences that I had as a child with my Great Grandmother with my children, makes that hook almost magical to me.