Notes to a friend going to meet my love

There are fireworks going off here. It’s like the world is calling out her name. Listen to me, my friend. Before you go there are some things you must know. You will meet her, and her beauty will confuse you. It will derail you. You will sit across the table from her and she will […]

A Journal of Undoing – Two

There are two kinds of waiting. One with a definitive end in sight, no matter the time. One without. The latter is a kind of waiting without waiting. Which means to say, you don’t know if things will ever change and you don’t want to bet on it, but each time you try and close the […]

Quarantine

Protect the softest parts of you. The parts that look like hide but are as tender as kitten paws not yet touched the earth. Protect all the tired people in you. The ones who sigh, unable to bear another day. Who look too eagerly toward the ends of things. For whom, to be unseen and unremembered […]

It will always be the little things

  It’s been two weeks. She’s not coming back. You’re not sure if that thought is going to pass quietly like a widow crossing herself silently in a church. Or if you’re going to wet your keyboard trying not to cry and failing pathetically. It will never be the big things that hurt you the most. […]

You don’t write to me, so you write through me  

You sound like I wake up in the middle of the night, a somnambulist, who deadwalks to my computer to write. You sound like me bleeding quietly in the dark. You are like me saying everything I am trying so hard to drown inside of me in the day time. Things so profoundly sad and […]

Reading broken, writing drunk: an open letter to Clementine Von Radics

    Your books are maps. This is what I understood. I never went anywhere without a poem lest I lose myself in places where girls like me should not be lost. Places like the cleavage. Or clavicles. Places like love. Or worse – possession. Places like wounds that must be tended to, and places […]