i got a promotion this week — Clinical Director — at tpcp.org… excited to make a greater impact for our community … listening and speaking from the heart … helping my team of outpatient case workers support our people out in South Natomas and North Highlands … life is more and more challenging on the streets … what with mental illness and socioeconomic challenges … cultural/racial injustices. i ask myself every day: what more can i do to help? at least i have a small platform and some skills to offer. 8 years clean off the hard stuff. what with the poetry, the books, my friends, my work, life keeps getting more and more exciting. planning to self-publish my first book of poetry, so far about 92 poems deep. i appreciate all of you here, on this our WordPress community. – k
Tag Archives: katya
ghostofgreeneyes
ona street a cat
confronts me the ghost
of green
eyes
came up crying
talking to me
like you felt
my pain
you did
know how to hiss
forgot how to
purr
i got some crumbs
for you and some
time. get down
low
crying
ghost of green
eyes. here
i remember i
was not allowed
to
#katyamills
little bio
all the way back to ancient history, i mean my personal teenage daydream, i stayed away from the opportunities the crosswalks the celebrations the teachers the smiling faces. i could see them but i could not approach them. they were there waiting for me all those years but i harbored social anxiety and a strong feeling i did not deserve anything good in my life. so it was personal justice i exacted on myself, the better part of my twenties. then i hit the thirties and got a taste of freedom from my vices and moved to california. then the question of owning my identity arose. this would require courage and resolve. i could not conjure it up. i needed a plan and i got online and got with community and developed one.
i made a career move that fit my strengths and values. i was working so hard full-time school and job with a serious commute two hours each way. i still hadn’t put it all together, i mean, anxiety and depression and dysphoria were my lot. i had a few friends but mostly isolative. the pressures grew and i got heavy inside my head and i slipped up. years go by. you feel like all is lost. it can turn you against yourself. i was lucky to survive. i made it.
glam.
used to be hotels and nightclubs
and bars
concerts and restaurants
shots of light and whisky in the dark
now i find the glam
in silent early mornings cooking
coffee
ona stove
words
i string words together
not for nothing
that i can find myself
when i get lost
in the madness of
this world
telling
telling was the night upon the day
long and hot and humid until
the end
the night and
like a shot it shut
you down
i took you to the spot
where all the revelry
was muted
distant
the
telling you how i
truly felt without
a word
