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Morning Routine
Every morning, I wake up surrounded by the carcasses of who I was in my dreams. Crawling with bugs and reeking of rot, I dismember them in my bathtub. The arm of the me who became a housewife, uncharacteristically happy about it too, goes into the trash bag right next to the foot of the…
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Let The Bugs Eat Key Lime Pie
His favorite dessert was key lime pie and he didn’t like sweets. But we got donuts every Saturday to rot away our teeth. Rotting. That’s what I’ve been doing. Taking my feelings and putting them on ice while my body suffers. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I don’t know if I ever will. I’m…
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Bloviate
Bloviate verb, to talk at length, especially in an inflated or empty way. See: me I don’t shut up. Never have. Probably should. Someone should make me. My brain is a teleprompter constantly scrolling. Thought after thought all day and all night. If I don’t get it out, it will fester and bubble inside of…
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Gregor and I
The first time I read The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, I was a senior in high school. Eagerly ready to leave the nest and flourish in college but also so depressed that I didn’t want to get out of bed most days. I was never able to fully describe the pit of my despair, though.…
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Migrating North aka Why Snow Means Nothing Now
Say “snow,” and the world shuts down. The mere concept of frozen, fluffy water falling from the sky is enough to send an entire county into a frenzy. Parents running around to get food for the impending storm, kids refreshing Twitter on repeat waiting for school to be closed, or cyber bullying those twiddling their…
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I Wait For Death Like A Soldier's Wife 