In March, I started seriously thinking about writing a memoir, and this memory is what I thought would start it, because I wanted to capture the busy softness of my life before. I wanted to start it in a way that said it was more of a love story than a horror story, but horrible things definitely happen. Continue reading memoir: fore/ward/telling
Before I write a poem as soft as falling snow, I want to write a note to you. I will tell you the truth. The poem will be soft as falling snow and as cold as all that, too. I will not write it from the warmth of a fireplace inside a cabin built by trusting hands. I will write it from the forest, where … Continue reading in lieu of errands
These are some prison vignettes, themed around incomplete and uncomfortable memories that swim around my head sometimes. I guess this a trigger warning, but the topics are so varied and layered that I’m not even sure what I’m warning you about. I love you, though– so take care of you. xo,Ra There’s a knocking at my door and a head pops in. “Hey Ra, someone … Continue reading i get it
I sniff words the way other people sniff flowers. Roses can be red, but not read. Violets are rarely blue, but most of us can’t say the same. I still cry, like every awful thing that I ever lived through just happened, but also– I still laugh, like every good thing I ever witnessed just happened all over again. I’ve noticed more and more … Continue reading holding violets
May 23, 2015 The water bottle is crinkling. Around it, conversation is soft, muted, somber– but there’s no volume control on plastic. I turn to look at the small hands holding it. He’s balanced in his mom’s arms, joyfully squeezing sounds out of the bottle. I smile at his mom, and then I make eye contact and smile at the little one. He grins, looks … Continue reading griefjoy
