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?
Letting Go of the Life I Thought I’d Have
The older we are, the louder that “Shouldn’t I have _ by now?” voice gets. I confront that anxiety on my birthday and find new ways to celebrate myself as I am.
Great Expectations, Realistic Disappointments
I didn’t yet understand that drifting apart was nobody’s fault—so I blamed everyone, myself included, for not living up to impossible expectations.
Memory is a Fickle Bitch
Memory is a fickle bitch, especially when the past fights being pinned down. But sometimes, a giant beach ball comes along to set it free.
If Only I Listened: the Olden Golden Days
Adults always say high school is the best time of your life. I didn’t believe them. I still don’t—but for different reasons now.
Memoir Musings: the Power of Second Person POV
Welcome to my TED talk; today, we journey into the dynamic, and largely maligned, second-person POV. (With a brief writing sample!)