Sex, Porn & Hotel Rooms - Poems from a Marriage

A marriage should be a place of comfort, of honor and respect--what can you do when your sanctuary turns into your private hell? Make poetry out of it.

My name is Anna. I was married for twenty-six years to a very successful man. These poems emerged seven years later because I wanted to forgive myself, because I needed to cough them up, to purge the vile memories, because I desperately needed to make sense of a long and abusive marriage. This is not a work of fiction.

My ex-husband was a sex addict. It's hard to explain how his extreme narcissism affected me - my poems say it best. For now, let me just say that to live with this kind of man is a very lonely existence because any kind of touching has nothing at all to do with love...