In a quiet, distant voice I tell my husband that I want to die. Not exactly dead, I clarify, but not this. By Laura G. Owens
Fourteen teenagers and three teachers are dead who were not dead a few of weeks ago, and my house is falling apart, and my children are at school. By Brianne DeRosa
You’re there because some nights she gets lost in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. You’re there because she has lost herself. By Amie McGraham
Nobody will send flowers. You don’t even have a face to conjure when you think of this child. By Maggie Downs
To throw away the cigarettes, and choose to run instead. To stop running when my hips hurt, and walk instead. By Kathleen Harris
I’m not sure when doing nothing after school fell out of favor. As a kid, I was a pro at nothing. We all were. By Francie Arenson Dickman
For what seems like a single frame of the video, I see my child silhouetted in the lights of the oncoming car. By Ian Smith
I held his illness deep inside me the way I would hold shame. In the dark, it rotted and grew. By Laura Leffler
We trot her out into the world, trying to help her gain confidence through exposure. But it only lasts for so long.
By Linda Pressman
So why is it you want a baby, my therapist asks. Love, I answer.
By Bethany Marcel