To Whom it May Concern | by Carolyn Butcher
I have procrastinated about writing this to you for 45 years. Even now, my heart is pounding and my foot is tapping. I am angry
I have procrastinated about writing this to you for 45 years. Even now, my heart is pounding and my foot is tapping. I am angry
We speak of this over decaf coffee, over countless afternoons as the sunlight simmers, as the shadows stretch slowly like a cat across the carpet…
Over the years I chastised myself for being naïve, for inviting him to stay the weekend. That second guessing is what stopped me from telling
He tapped into all of this. He also took his time to make me believe how special I was in his eyes. He didn’t sweep
[to listen to the author read his poetry, click Read More below] Christ He ripped me a new one. As I stared into porcelain
In I suppose a pinprick of hope, I look out his windshield wanting it to be true: northern lights or meteor showers or something to
Click the ‘Read More’ link to listen to the author read her open letter – it’s to herself, and it’s to you: Hey. I know
Date Rape Actress “You’re just an empty cage, girl, If you kill the bird” – Tori Amos, “Crucify” At sixteen, she felt it when
I was two or three years old, and nice Mr. Rubinstein, our elderly neighbor from the next building, was my babysitter. I remember lying across