and I wanted to

I dreamt of her two nights in a row. The first night, I saw her leaving a train and our eyes met - I forgot to look away - and her smile melted all the tightness in my chest into warmth. She hugged me and sparkled so brightly that I thought I’d go blind - …

Letter to a Golden Woman

It occurs to me that he must’ve treated you the same way he treated every other woman that unwittingly stumbled, mesmerized, and fell deep into those mischievous green eyes. The strong ones, since he loved to believe he could mold a strong woman into something of his own odd fantasy. And you were definitely strong. …

I Knew

I guess I knew once I woke up and my throat was cold and desert-dry from the determined draft seeping in from the cracked open window. I knew when the blankets were finally just warm enough, holding me captive in comfort, and not frantically cast off to alleviate the suddenly stifling straight-jacket feeling. I definitely …

A Slew of Winter Definitions

Winter is keeping one eye on the ground in front of you searching for ice while also making sure you're not bumping into humans or poles or into certain death as vehicles swerve over the half inch of slush, skirting the curb by mere inches dreaming of the fifth cup of tea while you're just …

sometimes-poet

i feel like a sometimes-poet. this day happens to to be one of those cloudy ones where all you want to do is roll up your sleeves and mindlessly scroll through your instagram, deleting photos of those moments where you were distinctly unhappy but posted smiles anyway. i'm on a deleting spree and i accidentally …

Out Late

i walk into the room, he's embracing the mic like a lover passionate, eyes closed, and then my heart races when he looks at me, boyish smile, fitted hat, is he singing to me from onstage? no, there's no way he sees me, but afterwards he walks right up to me envelops me in a …

“Red Couch, Black Polka Dots. Just a Couch.”

Red couch. Black polka dots. Red couch. Black polka dots. He figures if he keeps repeating it over and over he'll believe that's all it is. A red couch, with black polka dots connected by slight lines. She'd traced those lines countless times, she said it helped her think. Just a couch. It shouldn't make …

Natalie

My next place, she muses, will have hardwood floors, shining in their newness. It will have high ceilings and many, many windows, so that the sun can beam through. Perhaps she'll have a cat, and her cat will nap in the pools of sunshine pouring into the apartment, heating those hardwood floors. She walks over …

Mask: Part 1

It's become a cliche You know the type Self-centered, blonde, tan, fit, Throw in an accent and what do you get? The "jock," "douche," "insert judgmental stereotype" and how quickly we are to hide behind labels. I'm noticing, though, how hard you're trying every sentence you say is punctuated by a furtive glance to see …

Letting Go of the Wall

I had a crazy moment the other day. Well, it’s been a seemingly endless string of crazy moments, building up on one another to create this precarious tower that shook and rattled until it came crashing down – that’s what anxiety attacks feel like. You know exactly what’s happening, when it springs up on you. …