I saw you for the first time in 19 months, your hands still felt like lightning bolts, but your mouth no longer had the word stay written across it. I saw you for the first time in 19 m...
They asked me to become something louder, something less childlike, something more of what isn’t, between the cracks of what is. I told them I had fire between my teeth, I warned them, ...
Autumn settles in our skin as if we’d swallowed the last of august. It sits inside of us like a child, clawing at the linings of our souls, begging to climb in deeper. The September air...
Your name is stuck in my throat, and it burns every time I say it out loud. It’s a match that will never go out, it’s a flame that’s burning down the whole town that is my body. It’s le...
The universe has curled up inside my chest, it has made a home inside of me, letting lose it’s rain and stars as they trickle down my spine. Her hands are painted red, pressed firm agai...
I stood with my back to the mouth of the open field, my reflection pressed hard against the river’s teeth, my sharp face looking back at me; I am clothed in a skin I never asked to be k...
He held his knuckles against his s… My mother told me ever since he le… there has been a hurricane inside… She asked me why I thought love f… My mother drove me to the train st…
Some have said that I am a lion, My mouth holds worlds that can pie… oceans, that feel like home. Some have said that I am a Sunday…
There’s a girl out there with blue skin and hair the color of wind~ she drinks from the sun and sleeps under the moon In hope to fill the sky with blue, and drain her shadowed mind from...
My father spoke words that burned holes inside my chest, like the way that the sound of your voice would set fire to the dandelions that grew inside my lungs, You had stars sleeping i...
Sitting on the palms of my wrinkle… Swimming in the cracks between my… Spinning, below the sinking sky in… There you are. The lines on my palms hold years…
Tongue tied lava sky. Teeth scraping against heavy mouth… Clouds wrapped around waists, waists wrapped around hands, waists curved,
To be a writer means to trade in the person you are, to become the person you wish to be. To be a writer, means to leave behind the shell you live in, and replace your skin with sunligh...
There’s a rain cloud in my chest, and it’s beginning to storm inside my lungs. Theres lightning in my veins and thunder playing its song below my paper skin. The bitter taste of autumn ...
It was autumn and my skin had fall… My mouth left with nothing but a t… to make you stay. It was autumn and my body lay rest… I pretended it were a pile of yell…