I have ligature marks on my ankles, from the rope that I use every day. I fasten the weights of observed pain and of of expected guilt, of spoken sorrow, and of your mournful shame to my dulled and tired body, and I climb into the water again. I don’t want to drown. I don’t … More Manotonous


Lay me down, beneath the beckoning branches of the giants. Drive the marker into the earth, and pray, for my soul.

Out of Order

I don’t beg, but, I will, if you ask. I don’t pretend, except, in the dark. Night unfolds, All that I hide in plain sight. My chest, an empty cavity, and void of what you need me to feel. Rotting. You would be better off, to pick another carousel to ride. This one is out … More Out of Order

My Edge

I will find my way, back to the edge. The edge of the mouth of the volcano that once invited me in, with a pulsing promise of complete silence. In rest. In the last prayer. In the belly of a burning, churning whisper. Freedom, it tells me. A reconnection with the life I left behind, … More My Edge


I am half. Only the right side. Half interested. Half numb. A heart, in half. Half of the young girl that used to see hope and beauty. I am not kind. Nor am I soft. I am just half. Half of something or someone that tries to be just more than half. Half brave. Half … More Half


There are moments on some days, usually round late afternoon, that my speed train brain whips into turbo mode, and I get sad. Sad – but not sure why. I could collect all the thoughts that whiz by, and blame it on the collective negativity – but it feels more complicated and runs deeper than … More Dandelions…