The Day I Stopped Loving You [Poetry]

In my third year of teaching, I became friends with two other teachers, who were going through painful, messy divorces; this is a composite of their stories. I don’t exactly remember the day I stopped loving you; Maybe it was a process, a parade of continuous little hammer taps on the edge of the china…

All I Have is Me [Poetry]

When the problems and the pressures start piling up on me When the laments and the laundry get so high that I can’t see. When the hungries and the hassles invade my liberty It’s then I must remember that all I have is me. A husband may pack up or die; the kids will grow…