Poetry
Why am I in this room now? When did I arrive? My hands are shaking too loudly to know. Oh yea…my hair bands. I try twenty times, and I’m running out of time. My bun is now a startled peacock. She likes peacocks though. I hope she likes
Poetry
Crushed under the weight of empty boxes. Tears. Borrowed from the ocean. Birthed by the moon. A sign hangs over the presents. Happy in orange, birthday in blue, Drew in green. 　　　　[I see nothing happy.] 　　　　[Can I bring myself to open them?] "Maybe after dinner." 　　　　[Will I even
Poetry
I will climb to higher ground, so we all will land sound. Them first, then me. Months of duty, I obliged. I will grip the palm until all of us reach the higher ground. Not one of them flails against the screaming waves; shelter we'll provide. I find
Poetry
Her paw print, laid in clay. A concave piercing, always asking... Never answering.
Poetry
An overlooked weed. An inconvenient wildflower. A bad man. An unwanted man. The car arrives. So does the heartbeat. So does the doubt. Old friends, most of them. Faces familiar as the sunflower. Some aged, some not. Ten seconds to the garage. It takes a year. Hugs. Small talk. The