I have thought back over the last few years of my sobriety, on the friendships I have had and what sparked them, or what brought those friendships crashing down. It is safe to say that even as a small girl, any interaction I had with a fellow school mate, or anyone who I deemed a … More Broken Things. Awesome.
Tumbling down, fear wrapped in shrapnel, thick with a feeling of permanence. Sequined clowns point and mock in nightmares older than the circus, or any freak to take the stage. Lights sway, lingering just long enough on the twisted faces of sticky fingered children. Dolls, eating popcorn, mechanic jaws, and jerky hunger. Out of time. … More Circus Bait
We can undo the knot, that keeps it all in. You can walk away with it, still attached to the skin and I will unravel. Peel. Fray, and open up like a unbound flower. Allowed to breath from the first time. To breathe, and then to wilt, and fall limply to my knees, and you … More Pull…
Labels. I hate them. With a burning intensity I hate them. Why do we feel it necessary to label everything? Everyone? I don’t care if you have a degree or you were in a relationship with someone that hurt you so now you are an expert…. you can not smear the words ‘narcissist’ and the … More Oh My.. *Gasp* .. a Narcissist…
Admittedly I am a little shit. No denial there. My less endearing qualities being my ever cheery disposition and my temper. I ordinarily would let something like this go – but I am nominating a fellow writer for a Douche award. He is a brilliant writer – but he is an ass. He makes my … More D, for Douchebag
Look at me, in a way that makes me feel like you have ripped out my secrets and stored the bloody pieces in your pockets, proudly and with the intention of making them yours too. Touch me, in a way that makes me lean in, with out thinking. That makes me inhale you, like a … More Don’t Fall
When I was a young girl, I would wish I could be invisible, to the eyes that looked for me in the dark of night. My bed was not my imaginary princess castle; It was the birth place for evil. A grown man’s twisted mind, my small body he did find. I was four. He … More Child’s Voice
“All of the truly important battles are waged within the self. ” ― Sheldon B. Kopp, If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him: The Pilgrimage Of Psychotherapy Patients I have been blessed with a wild mind. A brittle constitution, and an appetite for truth. Impatience is my virtue, and possibly the only … More By Virtue
It is more convoluted, than just a throbbing demand for blood. It is more labyrinthine than simply knowing that I will stand, bloody faced and victorious, heart pounding against my rib cage. A reminder that the trophy blood that drips from my hands, is not mine. It belongs to one of the demons that has … More Chasing Demons
If I leant back in this hard wooden chair, and willingly placed my wrists on the arms, and let you cable tie my hands to it’s frame; would you? Would you follow through? Would you help me forget? Would you whisper your apologies in between each blow, each cut, each laceration of my skin? Or … More Would You?
writing as a way of life
My ramblings poems and musings enjoy or not no pressure
The varied thoughts of a millennial modern linguist.
Talking about real things
Poetry and Poems
All that is me!
CRIME WRITER
Fabulously Refined/Wildy Inappropriate
A home for the stories and poems that got away.
I Kill My Own Spiders
character limited descriptions kind of give me anxiety
A few new poems every week. Haikus on Sundays.
Mocking Bird Down 