midnight musings

Sometimes I wonder who I'm trying to reach when I write. Myself? People like myself? Someone to validate my existence and tell me I'm good enough to carry on? I'm not sure I have any idea. All I know is that I feel driven to share what moves through me, in whatever way I can.... Continue Reading →

~ little one ~

I’m raging out of my skin Jumpy, electric nonsense, and yet Convulsing with unwanted sobs Holding, suppressing, denying The impotence that scares me more Than any tangible threat. My belly clenches up, bracing Attempting feeble containment Of the demon churning deep within. She demands compensation, flesh Payment for that which was ripped away A child’s... Continue Reading →

– artistry –

Look at me So even-tempered these days  Fearful that my inner peace Might poach my creativity But is that such a blemish If I remain alive To feel the breeze on my skin For another cycle? Creativity need not be born From despair. I eschew that tired narrative. That stereotypical trope. What good are creative... Continue Reading →

love confessional

I trust nothing anymore. No one. Myself least of all. My history is less than reliable, and my instincts clouded by years of traumatic response. Why should I believe anything that I interpret to be true? I’m eternally hopeful, wretchedly searching, begging for the scraps of love that any careless encounter might accidentally offer. It... Continue Reading →

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