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Latest from the Blog
Will I always be this keening thing? (original poem)
Will I always be this keening thing?The girl who clings while cryingthrough a goodbye, begging tobe held just one last timeThe girl who sleeps curledaround a memory for years,too scared to seek another’s warmthfor the fear of it being withdrawn againThe ice in my veins freezing me in placeuntil someone thaws me with their touchSobbing…
Lighthouse Ache (original poem)
A lighthouse is a lonely building, to stand alone on a wind-tossed island, only appreciated intimes of turmoil. Who would think to thank amonolith constructed solely as a waystationfor the lost? And who would choose to maketheir home on that isle of isolation built onsilent goodbyes? It is of little comfort to beremembered fondly, if…
A Soul’s Name (original poem)
How do you learn the true name of a tree? Is it there in the rustle of leaves? Or is it there on the trunk, written in braille, embedded in the bark? Or is it deeper, within the creeks and pops of wood as it sways and grows, and the scuttle of the denizens that…
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For All Story Lovers! 