i. you tucked your feet underneath yourself when you left. i never thought you'd be one to succumb, but faces warp over time. so instead i tried to starve your pain by avoiding it in my letters. (were they coherent? i have a habit of delving into frenzies of wild ramblings of nothingness when i'm … Continue reading a lament (of the self): Original Content

you got a sunburn on the first day of grade school. strawberry juice ran down our stick fingers, our ruby eyes blindfolded. we were endless then. you traveled to scarlet, rocky mountains the summer before middle school. velvet sails of ships went with you, leaving only rugged waves and the stems of roses behind. you … Continue reading reddening: Original Content

sometimes i grope for words and laugh at myself afterwards.  (because i’m supposed to be a writer, aren’t i?) other times, i sit on the chipping green bench and pretend to stare at the birds while i tap tap tap inside my head and live a different life.  i let words and colors drench me … Continue reading a chipping green bench: Original Content