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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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Time Loss
I’ve lost track of time Not just lost track, more like I’ve lost time Half of my year thrown into a deep black abyss My time left out the door you walked in through Sending me into a timeless loop where my days, weeks, and months don’t feel real Three of them deep in a…
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On Love and Birds
Love is like holding a baby bird in your hand Hold it too tight, and it will die Hold it too loose, and it will slip through your fingers and also die Hands close together with open palms and care is ideal Yet my hands can’t stop shaking I’m terrified to hurt the baby bird…
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Butterflies
Somewhere between birth and puberty the butterflies painted on the walls of my bedroom migrated to my gut Flipping and fluttering filled with love for love Somewhere between middle school and high school graduation The butterflies in my stomach had an identity crisis Who they loved was both everyone and no one The boy with…
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(Not Boyfriend)
My boyfriend (not boyfriend) Lives in my phone and my dreams Sending me pictures of his day Robots half built and gray, industrial to their core Soccer practices interspersed with gym selfies Video games he’s ashamed of (Fortnite, it’s always Fortnite) And his body always, sometimes in the shower and often faceless All a gallery…
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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 