Frustrations with using writing aids.

This is another poem from my anger phase. It's pretty long, so I thought I would share it on my blog instead of the Poetry page. Hope you like it. Dear Stroke, I Hate You By K. K. Schmidt You crept in like a murderer, No warning. No sound. One heartbeat I was living— The next, I hit the ground. You fed upon my future, Gnawed clean through every dream. Then left me in the wreckage To hear my own heart scream. You stole the words I carried. You crippled trusted bone. You turned

Yesterday was my 3-year anniversary of being a stroke survivor. In the deep recesses of the night, I sat, thinking about everything I've experienced and am still going through. This came to me during the process, and I thought I would share it. Stroke doesn’t always happen with a bang. Sometimes it happens with a whisper. It steals moments from you before you even realize they’re moments worth stealing. One day, you pick up a coffee mug without thinking. The next day, your h

A stroke changes everything. It strikes suddenly, shaking the foundation of your life and the lives of those around you. When I had a stroke, I didn’t just confront physical challenges; I faced a profound shift in how my family and I viewed the future. Writing this story is difficult because it brings tears as I relive moments of fear, loss, and uncertainty. Yet I want to share this journey because it offers something important: hope. Even when it feels like hope is gone, you