It’s snowing on Halloween and I’m wearing a bunny costume with snow boots. My younger sister is a floral 70s sheet ghost. Our mother’s marching orders for bunny and ghost […]
We knew better than to wait for help
My footprints were a deck of cards, scattered and blowing away.
Its limp, velvet body weighs down the rear end of the truck, lifts me in the front. All I hear is fuck fuck fuck and the shake-wheeze of laughter.
If we could twist time, would I rewrite my story?
I have to make this pretending look real.
People are a puzzle mystery a void I’ve studied seek to understand the names I’m called why I am the odd one the weird one.
You rolled your eyes when people insisted you’d forget the pain.
I was slowly realizing it was important for my identity to inform my work; in no small part because so little of it informed my reading.
And while this does not define a broken woman, this woman was in pieces.