Several years ago my five year old cousin walked into the living room and asked me why I was crying.
A discarded headline, a byline, a whisper your voices are barely audible I strain my ears to hear your truth
I sat in the middle seat of the plane headed back to Western Canada. I was feeling very much like
My Auntie called me today leaving a voicemail, Helen call me back when you get this. Auntie never calls. Auntie