Sometimes making love to life and living the heartist’s way is about creating art in the midst of pain, discord and grief. I am going through a tough circumstance with someone in my life right now where my voice–my truth–feels cut off and denied. It’s no wonder I woke up this morning with a bad sore throat and this poem

Ashes to Ashes
Gripped Tight

Can’t Speak

No Sound

Voice Weak  


Swallowed Down

Truth and All

Biting Lips

Feeling Small  


You Can’t take

My Honesty

Can’t Hear

Can’t See  


I Choke

Rage and Pain

Hold It In

Must Refrain  


Let You Live I

n Lies and Fear

Keep my Hits

No Where Near  


Clamped Tight

Shut Down

Cut Off

No Sound  


Keep the Lid

Sealed Tight

Don’t Ruffle Feathers

Don’t Start a Fight  


Hanged Man

I’m Dead

Truth Gone

Lies Fed  


Happy Now?


Death March

Sealed Fate  


Sore Throat

Can’t Feel

Body Sick

Can’t Heal  


Walking Dead

Make No Sound

Ashes Ashes

We All Fall Down.

~Debbie Lichter

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