I've walked miles through rooms in other people's houses, places I remember the smell of when I light certain candles, I see midday desert sunlight enveloping lemon trees and parked cars, settling into dated kitchens full of food and well-meaning people— we were there and we were going places— we had hope on tap, living… Continue reading what a time to learn
Tag: poetry
Let There Be Light
Let there be light: on Sascha’s deformed rib cage on Renee’s last words to her murderer on every human. Let there be light on every human, & if light feels like a blessing, wherever light feels like a blessing, let there be light. Let there be light on every human, & if light feels like… Continue reading Let There Be Light
1/6/2026
Not so smart, and quite selfish. Like toddlers screaming in church, trying to make their shit everyone’s problem. I’ve had periods more impressive than these neverending pissing contests, Half of us are thinking. Should we just tell them they did it! – they’re so big and scary! – to get some quiet, grown-up time? Let… Continue reading 1/6/2026
A short story
I'm not, but I look taller. And I'm not blonde anymore because I never actually was. When I see her in pictures I do not recognize her even though I know her so deeply. I know her in patterns and seasons and context that she does not yet. I love her for every reason I… Continue reading A short story
I Was Walking With a Ghost
Carve into asphalt ruts again, know them better than my own skin. Immediately I am seventeen on another midnight drive home; my headlights make all the same old shadows. Pink Bullets in my mind, but Pine Hill puts the hole in my chest. I hope you still love that remodeled A-frame, your dream that came… Continue reading I Was Walking With a Ghost
My best work
Probably about half is missing– large parts of what makes a person, torn off, bloodied and ragged, or atrophied – what would've otherwise formed, but it was the survival years. Everything is stitched up, the damage contained in real time. It does not look nice, but she was a toddler learning to sew and forgetting… Continue reading My best work
Orange Tree
All my life led me. I asked for beauty and waited into ages I never imagined inhabiting. Never thought I would prove her at such numbers. I asked for dreams upon dreams and was given such pain I twisted and changed over and over again, woke with a start from so many things I didn't… Continue reading Orange Tree
Night
How dare we all? Go into that night, at all. We who create all the meaning there ever was, and is, and is to come. We who carry life heavy, because it is, and see everything by light, because we are (made of stars). We who compose cities of stars, but don't know, or don't… Continue reading Night
Betrayed
It still surprises me, these traces when I find them, shallow enough to feel them, my veins of Fool’s gold that shouldn't be unmapped, untapped. Parts of me still holding onto the parts of you that hurt me, like if I can feel it long enough it'll be worth it, like my longevity gives your… Continue reading Betrayed
some things
There is just nothing beautiful in winter that I can see, or feel, or write into a warm meaning. I don't know how. And there is nothing beautiful in the things you did, and said, and I could write about it, paint blood into art– I do know how. But how dare I make meaning… Continue reading some things