Mannequin Skin, a 3-part poem, written at the edge of goodbye. You don’t need the memoir to feel it, but soon, you’ll have it. Thanks for reading to the bone.
Category: Poetry
For the Kids Who Didn’t Win
This isn’t a recovery story. It’s about what’s left for the kids who didn’t win, who loved someone who didn’t make it. We deserve to stop carrying the blame.
Lit Ledger: Receipts for the Dead
After Dad died, I kept his ledger lit. Chasing closure with every transaction—proof, apology, a fucked up vigil, one last try for trust from the dead.
So Your Ex Thinks You’re a Demon: the Myth of Breakup Closure
If closure is what you’re after, lower your expectations. Cuz it turns out, over-enthusiasm isn’t caulk, and some breakups end with a demon instead of a reason.
We Beastly Women: Mythical Metaphors
We Beastly Women don’t always roar—sometimes we sheath our claws and burn anyway.
Facing Medusa in Memoir: the Memoirist’s Gaze
If I can’t talk to you, at least I can try to see you better. Sometimes, writing is the only way to reach the truth.
Mantra, Mother, Mirror: Happy Mother’s Day
2 poems, 1 heartbeat. One traces the compass Mom slipped beneath my ribs; the other salutes Libbs on her 1st Mother’s Day. Love moves down the line, invincible.
Baptism by Floundering
From the edge of a boardwalk, o’er the Canal, where a new Barbie rod caught its first & last fish before being abandoned forevermore. (Cue the melodrama.)
Nóttleysa, reflection without sleep
On nightless days, Memory feasts on my regrets. Nóttleysa weaves a web of every should’ve/could’ve I wear as armor. Follow the silk before the seams split.
“I Love You So”
I love you so. And I was so scared you wouldn’t love me back once you believed them. Did you?