After a short writer’s block period, I am back with a few ideas rolling around in my head. Thanks for reading. x There’s always this moment, when I have finally forced myself into real clothes and out of the house on the weekends. A moment of realization that I would usually rather be horizontal on… Read More Confessions of a Social Failure.
Sara didn’t know what possessed her to think that it was a good idea to just show up at the Cohen’s, but before she could chicken out she rapped on the door. Nothing stirred inside to indicate that they heard the door, so she knocked again and pressed the call button next to the door… Read More Excerpt–Can’t Say Goodbye
Some love was made for the light Ours was made for falling asleep on secret phone calls and chasing the high too far, too quickly. It was made for throwing each other to the wolves only to save each other and blame serendipity. It was made for painting picket fences black and smashing mirrors so… Read More Posthumous.
In my room, above my bed there is a window I’m not looking out But you’re looking in I can’t sleep or lie without you watching how my hands move every move I make with your nose against the glass I am an exhibitionist in my own room I can’t see you but I know… Read More Window.
See you. Are Vee. E. There’s a place where the line of your shoulder diverges into your collarbone. In that place, my sense of sight loses all sense at all. All I can See is You. My fingers are eyes fluttering over every part of you I can touch. I don’t know what I expected to… Read More Curve. [spoken word]
You know how the longer you look at a word, the more the spelling looks incorrect? Like, somehow, the letters switch around and look awkward in their places. You question the original spelling. Is this how it’s supposed to be written? You consult a friend. Do you think this looks right to you? You may… Read More Echo.
The color of my summer dress has faded I didn’t even notice it was on fire Dirty hands, shaking Bare feet on Kentucky bluegrass I am the sound that crashing cars make A screeching, a grinding, a lost collection of conflicting motions The flame burning golden now Finally aware of the melting skin I rub… Read More 30.
The scarlet letter on my chest sinking in beneath my skin That’s where I like you best A ghost of a boy in my eyes If I’m gone, who will keep me in your mind? History of the worst kind I pretend I can’t see through your thin disguise I should have cherished you Kept… Read More History.