by Darna Bazzica

She had an issue with the tissue
She did not like the wet snot
That stroked her hand
As she rummaged through for money
But she thinks
It’s by chance
But I did lay them ‘pre-SLY sly’
In my booby trap of my handbag
She was so wrong
My genius plan
Only uncoiled now
as I tell my truth
Of snot in hand
Yet my son is still to learn
…one day, I will tell him too
When he’s a man

Poet biography:
Darna Bazzica is forty-two years of age and a single mother of two. In her past she suffered from PTSD, depression, and is a survivor of domestic violence and drug addiction. Through Tai Chi, the study of Psychotherapy and mindful living she now lives in clarity and peace. As a member of CHO (Community Health Onkaparinga), she proudly helps facilitate healing through The BIG backyard community garden and also shows students from high school our community services.

Darna’s mantra is ‘Remember to never give up, we are all capable of change and we can do anything’.

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