new year.

2017, the girl is changed   winter fought my way through depression and anxiety found out the underlying roots, and scared me. it's hard to face the things that made you. almost took my life. gritted my teeth, and prayed for spring to bring regrowth. harassed by a boy. and, I let him... the only thing good that… Continue reading new year.


do what you love.

Do what you love...bake burnt-ish cookies, write fragmented poetry and unfinished stories, sing a little off-key, play the guitar slowly and clumsily, and braid your hair (forgetting a few strands.) Because, life is for enjoying, not perfecting. Wear what you want. Graphic tees or long skirts. Blazers or high heels. Dresses or jeans or sweat pants. That shade… Continue reading do what you love.


no one ever approves, everyone shakes their head, and gives their reasons, never listens to yours, doesn't validate your feelings, too young. too dumb. too naïve. blind girl, with your head in the clouds, snap out of it. to hell with you, i love the clouds. and, i swear i will touch the sky one… Continue reading approval.

picket-fence girl.

Picket fence girl. Board straight, with your heart in a tangle, your boy is saying he loves you, and you're happy aren't you? you're high school sweet hearts, stuck in a rut, thinking this is as good as it gets, optimistically.   You're marking the days off your calendar, waiting for date in particular, but… Continue reading picket-fence girl.

counting the stars.

Mom drives the rental car on a midnight Saturday. I lean my head out an open window, and count the stars, one, where are you, two, the stars are brighter here, three, is that Orion, or is that you? We sped along, and I gaped at Orion. I traced his belt with my hand, and… Continue reading counting the stars.

you, me, and the beach.

I look over at him, his kakis rolled up, his hair messy and his eyes awash with sleepiness. He is knee-deep in his socks, wading in the ocean. I'm sitting in the sand, watching the horizon and him acting like a fool. The beach is lonely without us; no one comes to visit her here in the midnight. The tide… Continue reading you, me, and the beach.