( For Kay and every single woman who has ever been caged )
~~~~~When the devil executed my sister, it was like any other day.
I was mowing the lawn, listening to Ken Follett’s, Pillars of the Earth on my headset. I was at the part where the young boys in the castle were throwing rocks at poor, innocent cats just because they could. I was baking mandarin chicken in the oven for dinner. The sun was warm and luminous upon my face.
I received the call at 5:15 PM. “Did you hear…did you know…He shot…Mike killed Kay…Your sister K-k is dead….”
Big Boobs & Jagger Lips ( A story about boobs, lips, fitting in, love, sisters, and undying love )
Kim & Kay. Sisters Forever.
~It’s taken nearly thirty odd years, but I’m sort of, kind of, in fashion.
You see, I wasn’t always this cool and confident and amazing. In middle school, I developed boobs before any of the other girls in class, and believe me, I wasn’t thrilled about it. Not a single bit. I wasn’t like some of those females who looked forward to their chests filling out, or those who couldn’t wait a moment longer to purchase a lacy, Victoria Secret bra. Nope. I was not one of those girls.
The world was better when you were here.—KSR.
~~~On your birthday, April 11, my dear sister, I will not mention the murder, the mourning, the loneliness, or how much I miss you. I will only focus on a few of my favorite memories of our special times together.
—My piece, Free Bird, is on my favorite site today, Feminine Collective.
“The thing about hearts is that they always want to keep beating.”
― Elizabeth Scott
–I’m sending you over to one of my favorite sites today, Feminine Collective, because, well, my essay, The Heart Always Wants to Keep Beating is there.
My family copes with my sister’s murder in various degrees.
For example, I make my brain numb for almost a year with merlot, cabernet, pinot noir, Mary Oliver, and Jesus. I can’t walk or breathe after the execution, but I can write. This is my sanity, my death, my new universe.
Our Darling, Kay
What do you do when you discover written words that excite you, cause you to reflect, and make you say aloud, “I get what she’s saying here. I identify. I’ve been there. I’m not alone in this crazy world.”