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Going to church Is like needing a repeat cesarean Having your scars cut open and all anyone says is “Your baby is so beautiful.” Going to church Is like mindlessly picking at a scab Realizing the damage only after you’re told “You’re bleeding.” Going to church Is like marrying an alcoholic Watching the person you…
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Pressing onward when your joy has dried up Is like being the last of the roses to drop their petals Or the tree that slowly releases its leaves from the canopy. You shed as you move, flaking what is left of your smile Leaving a thick trail of your dream’s dust behind you That others…
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I once knew a guy Who practiced the healing magic Of turning off his phone And ignoring his life until he felt whole. It was a frightening habit Because when he disappeared I imagined The worst possible reasons Rather than taking our time apart To do my own healing and renewal. The power of melting…
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Thank you For explaining my own feelings to me And growing angry when I press you And pushing me away. I understand now That there isn’t a safe space at this table Where I can be valued Without needing to shrink. Thank you For pointing me onward When I was searching for an exit Of…
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Emptied of worry Napping in the sunshine, I Drift and dream in peace. Sinking into calm, Napping in the sunshine, yes, It is glorious. Breeze across my brow Napping in the sunshine, ah! The bliss of nature. Warmth filling me up, Napping in the sunshine, I Find my truest rest. Emptied of my cares Napping…
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Hey friends! I have updated my Published Works page to include my newest work, The Circle. This is a short collection of poems about love in all its shapes. Physical copies can be ordered here. You can also purchase it through Kindle.
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I have reached an age Where it is not uncommon For my friend to lose their parent. Sometimes we sit together for a long time Before the cancer finally consumes And sometimes death suddenly descends, Disrupting, upheaving, chaotic. I bake bread and leave meals on porches, Knowing that the phone call I made to say…
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Is it supposed to hurt like this? You were a friend, not a lover You were not my blood and bone Yet, I trusted you with everything And gave myself to you Whenever you required it Because that’s how much I loved you. Is it supposed to hurt like this? We lived in separate spaces…
The Quick and the Dead
Short stories. Creative experiments. Ideas that might not pan out.
The Quick and the Dead 