Prose Poetry/Flash Fiction: Small Grief

I try to make my grief small, so no one else knows it’s there. I smile and I breathe deeply when I feel my eyes water, and even though my heart is palpitating, I make sure you understand that my grief is my own, and no one else can have it. You made your grief … Continue reading

A Prose Poem for Wednesday

Please to read my short poem. I am full of white, hot sand. Tiny, glimmering grains pushing through my veins, soaking in blood made of mica and miniscule, broken shells. My skin is made of thick, crisp paper, freckled with dust caught in the pulp. I am a thousand years old, a fulgurite formed from … Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Bird in a Girl Suit

She was a bird in a girl suit. Feathers gleaming gold and greedy in the light, sleek and dangerous in the dark. Covered in skin and blood and viscous tissue, hidden away from the world like some unspoken sin, something worth forgetting. But she was a bird in a girl suit, born to fly, to … Continue reading

When She Moved to New York

No one stopped to look. And that was okay, was all right, was for the best. When she moved to New York, a few people told her she would be missed. The few there were were close at least, loved her dearly and deeply, and that was a comfort. But now she is here, her … Continue reading

The Birth of a Writer

Today is my birthday. I am 26 years old. Throughout my life, there have been many obstacles, changes, relationships, missed opportunities. I have grown up and grown apart from my goals. I have watched chances slip away, important moments pass me by. And I have, I think, done a whole lot of living too. Despite … Continue reading

Book Review: Deathless by Catherine Valente

The last few years, I have stopped forcing myself to read books I am no interested in. I used to be a “finisher” – someone who would finish reading a book no matter what. But you know what I realized? Life is too short to read things you don’t want to read. And so, you … Continue reading

Prose Poetry: Done

I am done, she said. Not aloud, not to anyone who would hear the words. She said it with a choice, with a lack of doing that spoke volumes louder than any words she could have chosen. I am done, she told him. She told him by not showing up, by ignoring his calls, by … Continue reading

Prose Poetry: Ancient

A gray wind gusts and my spirit bones are sent down, down, spiraling down. There is a thick fog here, and though there is a light in the distance the mist filters it so that it is barely anything, barely a whisper in the darkness. I am enveloped in something dangerous. It is far more … Continue reading

National Poetry Month: The Supermarket

In honor of National Poetry Month, here is a more traditional poem for your enjoyment! The Supermarket And though there is nothing left of you I still think I see you in the supermarket when I am gripping the ripened peppers and frowning at the half rotted tomatoes when I am trying to be different … Continue reading

Prose Poetry: The Woods

I am done. I have to be done now. I can still feel the cold, twig-laden dirt of the campground pressed against my back, the scores in my skin hold the memory captive. I think I remember dreaming as I lay there in the dark, alone and un-alone. There was a fire, and I am … Continue reading