I help writers do the deep spiritual work to write, market and sell their Amazon bestselling books on Kindle, paperback and Audible.

It’s [YOUR NAME], B*tch.

I get why Britney shaved her head.

Why ‘FUCK!’’ is chiseled into the bathroom 

Stall by a kid with dark eyeliner and emo bangs?

This I now understand.

Sometimes, Allie chooses Lon, and Noah

Is left with his beard in the boat with the birds.

Frequently, the Anakins succumb to the dark side or the hot

British villain blows everything up right before the credits.

Not all whistleblowers get to be played by Nicole Kidman. 

Only the good DO die young and

The wicked get to sleep in.

Usually, she’s faking it. (She is.)

In many cases, he never calls.

Always, they care *way* less than you think.

Frankly, my dear, they don’t give a damn 

….like at all. 

Denial

Projection

Repression

Escapism 

Sooth for a bit, BUT only 

until you’re reminded of how 

Often, the underdog is left in a pasture 

Watching a well-intended family drive away.

Repeatedly, justice doesn’t prevail.

Time and time again, handsome incompetence climbs the ladder

Fastest.

Ordinarily, smiles of lies are 

flashed to keep up with appearances. 

Continually, money talks…the loudest.

Commonly, everyone but your cat has an angle (and the verdict’s still out on her).

Regularly, you blame your parents, but they can’t get all the credit. 

Generally, they *are*  all judging you and your outfit. 

Oft, *that’s* exactly what she meant. 

Never, do you say the right thing in the moment,

nor, do you bite your tongue when you should. 

Rarely, does the cutting of the slack take place.

And seldom, is the compliment that you crave …said.

So what do you do? 

You pick up an umbrella and beat the shit out of a car.

And after the sweats, the tears, and the projectile 

cusswords  …

Your shaky, cut-up hand drops the umbrella.

The jaded rage and pain that was once within

Are now dents on metal.

You breathe into the space that they left…

How will you fill it?

Will you self-source the love that you long for from others? 

Will grace for those who hurt you, for yourself for hurting

Others take up residency?

Will ambition to create the life you want,

regardless of the choices of others live there?

Will the courage to fight for justice emerge from there?

Will you compassionately hold space for other’s pain there?

Will the calling out of other’s bullshit resound from there?  

After all, ‘It’s [YOUR NAME], bitch.”