I really couldn’t do it
cut the cord, that is.
I needed balls.
Pumped up on your best
wannabe’s, I dragged your cross
clinging to maybe and might have been.
And then world weary
slept on the edge.
Now
I wake
to the hangover
steering clear of your blaring
brave facade
as I make the final cut.
As I steel myself
for the fall
expecting relief, somehow.
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C. S. De Dona
Author, Poet, Photographer, domestic violence survivor, and naturalized immigrant, Cornelia is currently an Arts and Letters member of The Southwest Florida Branch of The National League Of American Pen Women.
Cornelia lived in Kaneohe, Hawaii, for thirty-six years. Also, seven years in the Mid-Hudson Valley of New York. She now resides in North Fort Myers, Florida.
Her poems and photography are published in print, online, and in Rain Bird, a literary and art journal of the University of Hawaii's Windward Community College (2008-2013).
In 2013, Cornelia received Rain Bird's Kolokolea Poetry Prize for her poem, "Speaking French."
In 2015 her chapbook "Hawaiian Time," entered in the National League of American Pen Women's Vinnie Ream contest, was awarded third place in their inaugural multi-discipline category.
View all posts by C. S. De Dona
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