The Hourglass: Part I

The sands of time fall through the hourglass..

Every moment that passes

The end draws nearer

Than the distant cries of our birth


Fill your lungs with the warm breeze, breathe birdsong,

Cherish the memories made

The summer mornings spent as a young lass,

Rolling in the grass

Splashing through puddles,

As infinity gave chase

A wishing flower in the green grasses. Photo by: Lisa Ellen Goodman Photography (me)

A wishing flower in the green grasses. Photo Credit: Lisa Ellen Goodman Photography (me)

Invisible Scars

***TRIGGER WARNING*** The following narrative contains Sexual Violence. 

This piece is in reference to a sexual assault & attempted rape that I survived a few months ago, over Labor Day weekend in late August. It took place in my home, which I was sharing with a married couple. The husband attacked me early one Sunday morning, after his pregnant wife had left for work. In addition to his sexual deviance and view of women as subservient beings, there were aspects of it that were a LGBT hate crime. I had to fight him off both physically and psychologically, and I was able to escape the house after about 90 minutes, which seemed like an eternity.  This is the first time that I’m sharing this experience publicly. 


“Are you afraid of me?”

What are you talking about? 

“I want you.”

You can’t have me. It’s not going to happen.

And so began his attack.


The invisible scars that remain

where you violated me..

My porcelain breasts,

The sacred space below my waist,

between my hips.

Mocking my childhood traumas,

“What age did he start?”

I was 7, I told him,

as I traced the number on the wall with my fingers,

hoping this would transcend any language barrier.

“You’re a woman, grow up!”, was his reply.


The nightmares haunt me still,

in dreamland,

I’m brought back to your house of horrors

In the wee hours I awake, frozen in fear.

Invisible scars.

Last night I was in a car,

you abducted me,

Nowhere to run.


Just like I had nowhere to run when you burst through my locked bedroom door,

where I had barricaded myself to escape your touch,

reaching out for help.

“What are you doing with that phone?,” you asked me,

as I clutched it tight,

My inner trembling was not visible in my hand, nor in my voice.

I smiled and wove an innocent tale to distract.

“You’re not going to tell anybody about this..”

Now there’s an empty, deathly look in your eyes,

enough malice behind them to annihilate a soul.

I knew that I would find a way to get out of there alive, I must.

I plan on adding more to this; at the moment this is what flowed out. Thank you for taking the time to read it, I know that it’s not easy to share in such a painful and traumatic experience. 

WordPress- Invisible Scars1






LEG’s Wordography- “Spectral Vision”

Wordography is a combination of my photography with words I write, or lyrics & quotes of others.

I will continuously add to this series, which you can also find on my photography page,

Please enjoy ❤️

I call this one, “Spectral Vision.”

If there is something, someone, or somewhere you want badly enough, don’t wonder always, “What if?” or “What could have been..” Let it happen. Make it happen.


Nose Whisker (in Shakespearean Vernacular)

Nose whisker, nose whisker
Henceforth you poketh thus
What trickery o’ cruel cunning
Hast thou employed to enter my nostril’s bed chamber?
Unsightly creature of Lucifer,
Methinks thou art a rogue hair!

Unsightly nose whisker. Illustration by LEG (me)

Unsightly nose whisker. Illustration by LEG (me)

As Prince Hamlet might suggest, get thee to a nunnery!

Make haste!

Begone, foul tuft!

Snip snip.

(Sword clatters on the ground, beside the nose whisker)

Adieu, Sirrah.

MAKE haste, nose whisker!! Illustration by LEG.
Make haste, nose whisker!! Illustration by LEG.