Cut to leaving. I am a firefly in the dark room of your house, a hopeful piece of light for you and we stay hopeful that my imprint on you lasts longer than the urge to buzz myself into the porch ligh...
I use the wet mud on the rocks as paint to draw my wishes.
My friend’s sigh is the reminder of where we are,
the shell that currently stores my dreams at night;
the living quarters that excavate breat...
“Time takes time, you know.” – Ben Folds
You’re in every crevice of my hands,
a reminder that I once held yours tightly.
You’re in the corner of my eye,
but it’s just a vacant wall in the back of the ...
My mother is a saint, I’ve never heard her swear
and the only time I ever heard
her raise her voice,
she subdues it, but with power. Her sound carries like rumbles on the train tracks. She knows surel...
Give me a second. Let me learn about the crevice of your face, learn the way you raise your eyebrows when looking at me as the odd girl who tripped and luckily found her way in the center of your univ...
So immersed in the flavor of smoke,
they called it the bakery.
Tasted like warm comfort on a Sunday afternoon,
they practiced it like it deserved mastery.
Hearing midnight chatter in the basement,