Seaside Escape 

I revisit those memories,
A touch of the past,
A shop filled with broken antiques,
Where I still cannot pick up the pieces.
Echoes of memories,
Ramblings of the sea,
the grains of sand and shards of shells
Bore the test of time
Just like me
Frayed but not forgotten
Like a porcelain doll’s
Yellowed dress and faint musk  
Time’s enveloped passive touch
Roars at the indignity of want
Raw, fleeting,
Gone
Off a forgotten shelf
And mindless of the future,
Out the shop’s door
And into oblivion,
An old memory no more

Unsung Psalm

Love is not gentle

Nor it is kind
It’s violent in the ways it flails about in failure
After having tried to scream it out
In the cold vacuum of the night
Voiceless and naive 
Believing in its own power
Loud are the pangs of want
Lost in the stridor of petulance 
Digging deeper into the chasm of a collapsing crescendo
A song, a kiss, a life choking out its last moment of need
Beyond love’s finality and austerity looms impatience 
Say nothing of kind and gentle once more

Tucked Away in My Pocket

The soft denim, my jeans washed, yet this lint is like a tyrant marching his troops across a sea of wild flowers
I summon it from the battlefield 
I was too fucking demure to wear my sexy skirt and go without panties
I’m not a whore, but I’d let you treat me that way
(Pull my hair as I drink you in)
The shots and a pitcher of beer I want to enjoy with you remain as folded Hamiltons and Washingtons, along with lusterless and luckless ching-chang Lincolns that’ll be washed and fuzzy for my next hop here
I think your attention fell onto another time and place where your heart is tethered 
So I sit in awkward silence,  fiddling around with my phone, praying that you’d wonder about this girl by herself, and join me for a round or two
These moments here shall sink deep into the pit of pennies and desire

Diamond Discounters of NY

Call Sha. He is honest, has integrity, and will call and text you until you are satisfied. He will text pictures of the project, rings, earrings, necklaces. His prices will not be beat! I never met him, only spoke to him after finding his name on the Diamond District of NY website. I live 1200 miles away from his business and feel at ease knowing how sweet and reputable he truly is.
(212)354-9105
Tell him Eva recommended him!
His business is
Diamond Discounters of NY
578 5th ave
NY NY 10036

If Only You Knew

 

If only you knew how a person with depression feels, then maybe the stigma of “mental illness” wouldn’t taunt him/her like a bully passing by in a middle school hallway. So much media attention is placed upon diseases like diabetes, cancer, HIV, arthritis, or alcohol and drug dependency, but mental illnesses are treated unjustly because they are much more complex than other diseases. Yet, survivors of other diseases have entire communities behind them, and many hands to hold, while people with depression struggle on all alone.

If only you knew that a person with depression, unipolar or bipolar, can seem to enjoy life, but with the stigma comes shame, so they hide it and push it down until nobody’s looking, or until the pressure gets to be too much. The girl who giggles at your jokes is the same girl who cries herself to sleep every night. The guy who excitedly tells his coworkers how happy he is that he and his wife are expecting their first child thinks about hanging himself before his child is born.

If only you knew that Dr. Phil and Oprah cannot fix what cannot be expressed, understood, or appreciated for its mass, then maybe you would stop trying to force feed answers to unasked questions upon survivors of this disease. There are no rhymes, reasons, or ratings that will ever cure the burden that is carried.

If only you knew that sometimes it’s ok to feel helpless, but it’s never ok to lose hope. You might not be able to understand what your friend or loved one is going through, but you can do everything to lend your light without blaming or shaming, for it is the stigma of mental illness that keeps so many individuals and families from getting the help they need or from accepting that disease comes in many shapes and forms, and depression is just one of the many.

If only you knew that feeling like an outcast because happiness doesn’t exist inside where the rest of the world cannot see, is unacceptable to the person with depression, and that the depression, in and of itself, is a bully like the stigma it carries, then you would know why so many depressed people choose to shut the world out and/or die.

If only you knew that love is not the answer or the cure, but it is the beginning of the healing process. Everyone needs a hand to hold.

Beyond the Gates of Hell

One: Spiraling down
A dizzying array
Two: Within I drown
My heart away
Three: I’m lost about
In silent screams
Four: I cannot shout
Through tattered seams
Five: It’s understood
I’m locked beyond
Six: Your world of good
I was so fond
Seven: Trapped inside
This crushing darkness
Eight: Without a guide
In desolate starkness
Nine: The mind can’t protect
From being woefully heartsick
Ten: There’s no way to correct
The Devil’s arrhythmic