And the form asks if I’m having headaches. I think about my taffy brain, how it’s been pulled […]
Behind the well on our farm, beside the barn, before the fence. It is a nook, if a […]
When I say that things are up and down, this post represents the down. If you’re not up to it, biggest hugs, skip it with my love. xo.
This year, my roommate and I decided to make a small collection of vintage-inspired Long Beach t-shirts. Today, […]
They think me boneless,I yield so easy.They think me skinless:I talk so white.They think me tender,home-grown prey.They think […]
Today for NanoPoblano, I decided to do some blog maintenance. First, I changed the theme. Do you like […]
“My difficulty is that I am writing to a rhythm and not to a plot.” – Virginia Woolf, letter to Ethel Smyth, 1930
Awhile ago, a friend of mine ran into a guy who told her he wanted a woman who made him feel like a man– and this poem happened after I thought way too much about that sentence, haha!
Gravity holds you in place even when you want to float free, and sometimes the hold is a hug, and sometimes the hold is a strangle.
“Grief is the final act of love”
– Lauren London
I know there is magic.
I never stop looking for it. I pretend I can make it. My fingers tap across a keyboard and it crackles like sorcery.