Reaching By Amy L. Kratz


Me 1997 right before leaving for Minneapolis. Sporting my Mullet and Where’s Waldo Shirt




The day begins.

The only sign I’m alive

is the smell of coffee

seeping through the thick, hot air.

My mind is weary from sleep

I didn’t get through the night.


and tossing in the sheets.

Smoke drifts

from my cigarette,

effortlessly into the air.

I watch it carefully,

wishing it were me.

I trudge from room

to room

surveying my soul.


Like a forest,

full of hope and promise.

A small tree reaching for the light,

struggling against the tall canopy-

for a piece of the sky.

A moment and place

that no one hands you.

It can all be yours-

for the price of being humbled

in your own humanity.

A walk of shame in your step,

the fall from grace in your demeanor

and finally a grin

of satisfaction

in the face of defeat.


Live Life so you never have to say," I should have..." I have lived like this, because at age 9, I was brutally beaten while walking to school and acquired a head injury with a seizure disorder and a lifetime of recovery. I live in spite of what everyone believed I would become. You wouldn't know any of this if you saw me or spoke to me. we are some of the many anonymous people living with disabilities in the world. I am a writer and an avid observer of the human condition and I have found that people with TBI are some of the most misunderstood and under funded groups of people with disabilities, I want to change that. I have advocated for people's rights for most of my life years in the human service field and I'm trying to make a difference through education. I hope to inspire people to live well against all odds and the status quo. Be Unique and be who you are and not who others want you to be. Be FREE!
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