Writing

It’s not really something I can share, is it? Because they feel it. Visible in their eyes, urgent text messages, twirling of the hair. How do you communicate an ache originating from the darkest depths of your soul?

When I was very little, my Mom took me on a trip to Arizona. She was strong back then, a long-time hiker just like my dad was when the two still knew each other.

My mind trailed off on a summer day

Through the hot sappy forest,

Off the road until it met the sand.

I woke up in the golden sunny ocean,

And decided I might stay awhile.

I am a girl from Burlington, Vermont.
And I will always be a New England girl,
Trips to Maine because I can’t survive the summer without seeing the ocean.
Family from Massachusetts,
And a dear love for Boston.

As much as you want it to be, It's not my fault.

Its not my fault you don't think I'm good enough for you.

It's not my fault you aren't together anymore.

It's not my fault she my mother.

a black cat crossed the street

as i was speeding down it,

i came to a halt, 

but it was already gone. 

i guess that it's lucky:

i didn't kill the cat,

but as i stepped out to look where it stood,