“No, I don’t know you at all. It’s true.” “Then why do you turn away? Why don’t you try?” “I did. I fed you parts of me no one has seen and I expect the same in return.” “There’s no harm in digging, Liz.” “Yes. There is.” “How?” “Because. All I’ve ever known was digging […]Read More Mirroring.
It wasn’t that I was desperate. It wasn’t that at all. It was because deep down I loved him as fiercely as a horseman risking his life through uncharted territory, primed and at the ready to deliver a hand-written love letter explaining the truth in the reality I saw in him. Facing the mirror in […]Read More The Dark Side
I couldn’t comprehend how Spring would bring new life when my heart was still buried in last September, decaying under the memories of you. But, Spring has come and gone and Autumn reigns again, bursting forth colorful displays that remind us all that there is beauty in the breakdown and life in letting go. Like […]Read More Honey | Stigma Fighters Anthology, Vol. 3 |11•16
I know why I stayed at the dive bar down the street until last call, despite my better judgement. And by last call, I mean five months too long, not hours. There are no more last calls for me. I said my goodbyes whether they knew it or not. And not many in that bar […]Read More Last Call | 11•16
There are some nights I dream of reconciliation. Brilliant. Reconciliation. Fireworks. Shooting stars. Crystal clear waters. Sweet embraces. Wealth in the healthiest of forms. Running. Hand in hand. Emracing. Kissing. There are some days my heart cascades and descends to the floor when I see him. Illusion. Delusion? Dream? Husband? Soulmate? Twin Flame? Was it […]Read More Hey.
Dear Heart, You are going to learn to respect me one way or another. I wake up from nightmares of animals attacking me, panicked because I know there will be something new that I’m doing wrong, or being accused of. I had a terrible week and you simply made it that much worse. Nothing has […]Read More Dear Heart,
I cut the deepest recesses of my mind out of paper and fashioned them into characters who spoke lyrically and whimsically behind a stage; anything to hide the truth within my voice. He didn’t make sense. I didn’t make sense. Together, we made sense.Read More Cadence (chapter 2, bits & pieces).