My ghosts are invisible to eyes other thanOnes trained by history to see themI try to blind myself to their presenceYet their darkness penetrates my eyelids Their voices soundlessly fall upon unknowing companionsYet their silence screams into my headShowering me with hateful words Worthless. Stupid. Loser.You deserved what you got.You are destroyed – why even

In 2016 I was gifted my Native American name, Strong Woman with Listening Heart. “But Grandmother,” I said, “I don’t live up to that name.” She replied that it is up to us to strive to our names.  I do listen to others with genuine love and caring. I also listen to the Universe –

TW: suicidal ideation There was much of my life where hope seemed very much out of reach.  I felt that way because of the experiences that I had over the years. I had lived through trauma after trauma, starting when I was a very young child and lasting well into my early adulthood.  I used