Anne Frank

I will confess that only now, this late in life, am I reading Anne Frank’s diary.

With just 20 pages left, and her demise imminent, I am reluctant to finish it, as I know how I am going to react, and I am already grieving. During the course of this read I have fallen completely in love with this brave and enchanting girl who was so far beyond her years. Still, she had a child’s innocence while teetering between remarkable insight, bravery, fear, and a young girl’s fantasy.

I find that as I get older certain things punch me right in the heart, and my soul bleeds openly. Our world is filled with so much beauty which runs concurrently with a certain degree of horror and unimaginable suffering. This dichotomy spins my head and leaves me uncertain of everything outside of my own small family.

Now I am off to say goodbye to Anne and hurt just a little bit more.

The Children

explain to me

you smilers

and knowers

of truth

you who have mastered

right and wrong

explain to me

the children

crying at night

beyond comfort

they would suck their thumbs

if they had any

separated from their parents

who blew up

before their eyes

mother’s last look

father’s last touch

in pieces

while the children


wishing they had died

blind, limbless, hopeless

beyond repair

explain to me

you masters of war

decision makers

widow makers

how you sleep at night





those children

would claw your eyes out

rip your guts out

claim your soul

if you had one