Posts
-
The House On Third Street— chapter 1: The Dog
The road was warmer than the sidewalk.
-
December, Almost Gone
The year is ending
without asking if I’m ready.
It folds itself away
like a letter I never finished writing—
corners bent,
ink smudged with things I didn’t say out loud.
-
Out of the loop
I used to have a purpose here.
Words would open,
and people would step inside them.
Photos would breathe,
and someone would stop to look.
Now it feels like I’m slipping—
here,
-
-
Chapter five: Freedom
I stared at the chains for a long moment.
They were thicker up close—layered metal, cold and ugly, dug deep enough into her scales that the edges were dark with dried blood. My stomach twisted.
-
What I want to be.
What do I want to be when I get older?
It’s only a matter of time before I’m an adult and on my own.
But what profession will I have?
How will I do on my own?
Will it all be okay?
Loves
-
It's getting worse
Mom
It's getting worse
I hate
the way my tummy rolls when i sit in this chair and how i feel guilty when i eat a whole bag of peeler gummies and when i don't eat because i hate how i look in the mirror
Dad
-
-
-
The Genuine Beauty of Dreams
Our world is filled with such
Delicate things, such
Beautiful little lights we
Find glittering in our eyes and
Try to tuck
-
You Who Gift Me a Smile
For my friend, who
sent me a letter in the mail even though
we see each other every day, just
so she could gift me a card and
a lovely little poem;
-
"perfect."
I pick at my face
on a daily basis.
Rub my fingers over
my acne scars and oily skin,
every unwanted mark
that supposedly makes
me beautiful.
I try to convince myself
