When your happy place

is in mediocrity anything more becomes too much too real and 'happy' becomes something uncomfortable so foreign that a hug is a vice and a smile is a ghost on your mouth


be cruel

my body stills at his memory remembering his voice wrapped around my name knowing how his calloused hands would feel against my sunburned cheek red & blossoming a natural reaction i want to bite his lip and carve my name into his body the way his is sliced into my soul so the ghost of … Continue reading be cruel


waxes poetic on the apocalypse i attempt to listen but a gaze so loud demands my attention a looks so intent brings a drought to my lips scrutiny so heated no wonder his eyes of swirling blue the shade of the most pure flame make my skin burn hotter than the spring sun


“dance with me” my pen whispers every night as the January wind whistles and my aloe plant clings to life listening to Velvet Underground between Spotify ads It tempts and teases me, sitting at my desk, the notebook waiting to be opened, a dancefloor finer, smoother than any other fingers twitch and mind stretches A … Continue reading untitled


we drove on a night as dark as an undiscovered cavern over hills & under bridges we glided and sang duets about paper girls and secrets in our coffee the November air streamed through the windows & reminded us to stay alive. we stopped on a hilltop at the highest perch of our small city … Continue reading we