I Am

I am not  the thoughts  that parade themselves one moment and light themselves ablaze the next. I am not the painful memories  encased in a golden hue. I am not  the shame loyally waiting by my bedside each night, nor the shame that rears her head whenever I mention my allergies, nor the shame  that…


I keep falling in love  with a history  that doesn’t belong to me, the faces continually change  but there is always a “you” and always a “me” and so I bury this “you” and that “you” in this mental ex-friend, ex-boyfriend, ex-lover, ex-whatever graveyard  I’ve roped off in my head  courtesy of all these people…


I find myself flocking to the inbox of someone new nearly every day— what is it about constant correspondence I crave so much? It is the skeleton of intimacy, the shavings of human interaction  and interconnectivity  and somehow I’ve duped myself  into believing  that it is enough for me. 

Planting Trees

If I accept,  will you build me into your cobblestone patio  let me dig my fingers into the earth  to fill every crack with the green that seeps out from underneath?  Will you bury me and all our secrets in your garden  so no one can distinguish between  the seeds that plant peas  and the…

Letting Go

I let go of you faster than a sneeze, you slipped between my fingers  and although I practiced  holding you memorized all your ridges, I quickly realized I was never meant to hold you. 


There are galaxies inside you, sometimes they pirouette  make you point your toes in some direction  you’ve never known but what you do know is that there are so many kinds of love to fill you up.

Don’t Maul the Lion-Tamer

I am tired of searching for myself in the arms of someone else, I am impatient to heal from the wounds you inflicted and the wounds I inflict on myself, so I try to pass the time by counting every  red and white stripe in this tent I can find. When I get tired of…

Dust on My Headboard

Well, I’m not sure if “Love is a dog from hell,” because love hasn’t called love hasn’t showed up on my doorstep just ‘cause, love hasn’t texted, love has only left dust on my headboard. 

To Land

You were so familiar running my fingers over the keys of this old typewriter  almost Like I’d written  your name before, but when I pressed  the first letter  of your name, years of rust  both upheld & defended the key from landing.