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I trace the contour of my naked hip, sinking into the sweet memory of being tasted, of being swallowed up. I speak the words out loud, to an empty room, reverberating questions without answers. This is where we went wrong. This is when you turned away. This is when I withheld. This is when you…

I have been formed like a glacial basin, a ball of silly putty, a clay pot, a plump cloud, a croissant that tastes like the perfect morning.  I listened to that song that brings me to the space I held for you, but I know that you cannot fill it. I danced in the hallway…

This beer looks like someone put carrots into a blender.I’m reminded of a time when I only ate carrots.Mostly.I mostly only ate carrots.One day, I looked at my hands and observed that my skin was a shade of orange. Like an Oompa Loompa. That’s the second time this week I’ve referenced Willy Wonka. I know it’s actually titled…

Are you scared of my messiness? Does it make you feel a certain way?Take off the rosy glassesIt’s time you heard what I have to say Did you fall in love with an idea of me?Did you see what you wanted to see?Not the parts of me that aren’t palatableAnd don’t match who you think I…

My anger is soft and gentle, asking if it’s safe to come out now. She knows her place. She is a child with skinned knees, running to her mother for shelter. She seeks acceptance. She hides behind sadness. She is demure. She is complacent. She is afraid to be known and wants to be known.…

When you are sick, people who are not sick talk endlessly about recovery. They are attempting to encourage you, to bait you, to convince you. They wonder what could be said that would make you change your mind, choose a different path, step away from the endless cycle of mental and physical abuse. The answer…

quiet mornings/thunderstorms/making the green light/a smile from a stranger/tears in the shower/catching the sunrise/being in love/stomachaches/skinned knees/bad haircuts/laughing until your sides ache/falling asleep on the phone/missing your connecting flight/losing your favorite sunglasses/getting an A/heartbreak/singing all of the lyrics correctly/not getting the job/petting a puppy/a speeding ticket/breakfast in bed/skin on skin/saying goodbye/saying hello

Don’t touch my body.It isn’t yours. Not another man making choices about my bodyThat I didn’t consent to The answer is no. Before you tell me what I can and cannot do with my bodyLet me ask what your body can do Can your body grow another human life inside of it?Can your body create…

I recently heard that self-love is psycho babble for safety. This is really interesting to think about because our culture is so obsessed with the notion of self-love and the idea that people (particularly women) need to love themselves before they can love someone else. Is that true or is “self-love” yet another construct that…

I wake in the morning, full of anticipation I want five more minutes in bedWhen you’re there I love peopleI can spend hours aloneScanning articles, taking long walks or sitting in a shop, watching the world spin Nature is my sanctuaryFresh air filling lungsSunbeams warming skinBody twisting to the music in my earsFeet hitting pavement…