I am many things; a mother, a survivor, a creator.
Welcome to my page where I make sense of all the facets of myself.
Becoming by Lolly Vieira
we become ourselves with each stab to the heart as layer after layer is stripped from us we shed that which we are not
I still live with my fears, they drag behind me like a ball and chain finding my concealed courage coursing through my veins
My Blackhole by Lolly Vieira
the minutes crawl by counting seconds in inches doomed to the test of time while the earth sits still and your emptiness
chest cavity torn in two hollow all along no tape, staples, or glue no bandaid or thread can piece back together these shards of broken glass heart
A lot of what I've learned this year is that you can either make mistakes or you can have happy little accidents. I bought a box of cookie mix today. My son and I were supposed to make bat cookies for Halloween. It came with a powdered mix, a cookie cutter, and two different colors of frosting. All we needed was a large egg and 4 tablespoons of butter. Easy, right? Well, being an enthusiastic seven-year-old, he was incredibly excited to be baking with Momma and he threw the stick of butter into the powder mix with an egg in it before I had a chance to melt the butter. So, I decided, whatever, let's try to blend it up anyways. I put the forks I’d had out away and grabbed my electric mixer.
security is a fridge full of food plump grapes and crisp apples remind me that I’ve come so far the tub of dairy free yogurt for my son
Capitalism by Lolly Vieira
I’m picking up dog shit. How fucking grand. With a wrinkled Walmart bag slipped over my hand, I pray to whatever god may exist
Fruit Fly by Lolly Vieira
the fruit fly makes a buzzing sound as he slips past my ear my left eye twitches in frustration I’m not sure how long he has been in my kitchen