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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    There are so many things about myself that I can’t explain. Like why I need black coffee and a cigarette to get moving Or why I can’t sleep past ten. Or why I never stick with routine. Or why no matter how hard I try, I can never finish anything. Or why, why on earth, why I can’t just ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I have this butterfly net. This magic, fire-retardant butterfly net and with it, I will catch that spark we let float away over this dirty, cold city so devoid of love and emotion. I will catch that spark and put it back where it came from and maybe we won’t be so cold and maybe you’ll...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I have this nasty habit of… Sometimes, I find that I… Often don't know what I… Have this problem with figuring out what comes next. I sometimes slip and have this history of turning bruises into flesh wounds rainstorms into typhoons molehills into sand dunes if that makes an...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Yes, you will remember her— she who rose from the heart of the fire, walked through the coals, and sat next to you on that night of July 4. She whose image, like the crack, pop, sizzle of the colors bursting overhead, is burned into your memory. She who weeps desperately to remember, ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I want to hold you, but you are too far to grasp like the stars I have reached for, waiting for them to fall into my open palms and make my wishes come true. I desire you like the months of waiting, waiting for a way out. And I thought I found it with you, but you are elusive. You mov...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I am a receptionist. Other than sit around, I answer phones, disengage the alarm on the front and back doors, and call the kitchen to bring more coffee to the lobby. Being a receptionist at a nursing home means I spend the majority of my time inhaling the smell of sick. I have actually become immune...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    From this point forward I will not stand to be unhappy any longer. I will not stand to be broken down, broken apart, broken-hearted. From this point forward my success does not depend on my waistline and my strength does not depend on my weakness. My biggest fear is not the nutrition...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    My real name is Princess (in Hebrew, of course). To the world, my name is always there, but dispensable. Yesterday it was can't be sunk. Until well... you know. So today, my name is oh-so-sinkable. And who knows? Maybe tomorrow will call for she who couldn't handle ...

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