The Writing Wounded

I write of darkness that inhales my light. I pen rays of hope that drown in tides of tears I … More

Predestined

I don’t know how to wait without withering. My petals close upon themselves in the mere motion of a minute, … More

Fake the smile that belittles the denial of silent rejections. Arrows flung without thought but with precise aim. Confidence pops … More

She is a collector of all things broken. Her desk and shelves littered with shards and shivers of sentiments … More

I’m a mother. Appreciate me. I am a business woman. Respect me. I’m a writer. Read me. I’m a photographer. … More

Illogical illusions of indecent deeds. Spiraling strobes of incense and soft downy robes. Foreign faces with familiar graces. Laughter lilting … More

Mind of shadows and blurred needs. Battle of disguises and crumbled masks. Words of substance that melt into nonexistence. Body … More

A paralysis of devotion, condoned by the historical drone of unresolved emotion. Every nerve ending cauterized to prevent my soul … More

I wear a compass on my wrist, an anchor on my ankle but still cannot comprehend which direction I belong. … More

Forced to choose to be someone else. My identity changed in the debris of a wreck. Death was cheated by … More