Guess who has her first book of poetry? It’s me! I’m incredibly excited to share that I’ve published a curated collection of my most heartfelt poems. It would mean the world to me if you checked it out.
Read moreCategory: Poetry
I was wrong
At the dimly lit restaurant, We make talk that seems smallEvery time my lips part, I want to scream I was wrong I tell you between my teeth(I was wrong)I say it every time I inhale(I was wrong) When I speak, I stare at my hands instead of staring into your honest green eyes I take…
Read moreYour checklist of firsts
They say progress is happinessWell how did it feelTo crumple your checklist of firstsAnd leave it on my couch Accomplished? Ecstatic?Motivated for what’s next?It’s a sweet thing to see the inkDried and discarded First isn’t last, unfortunatelyBut you live, you learn, and hey,Ruin is necessityAnd at least you got it out of the way You…
Read moreWhat I mean when I tell you that I want you
Your body is some artful mix of Grecian marble, sun-drenched canvas, and a palette of a life well lived. You belong in a museum where people can appreciate you from every angle. I love your body and I would visit that exhibit every day. But when I tell you that I want you, it’s not…
Read moreThe difference between us
The difference between us I watch her long, brown hair waving with her laughter as she busies herself at the stove. I watch her as she cracks open her heart. She grabs a well-used whisk and turns the ache into something so functional and beautiful. I watch her hands the entire time she is creating….
Read moreSometimes peace
Sometimes peace comes from a look shared across a table, a moment that makes you feel seen. Sometimes it comes from pressing flesh against flesh, cheek to chest as you fall asleep. Sometimes peace comes when you’re so busy, you haven’t had time to ask for it. But rarely does it find you when you’re…
Read moreRise to love
Your laugh
They have love
Everyone else has love The simple ones, the racist ones, The women who hate themselves, The men who keep secrets They have love I want to ask them what it’s like What’s it like to have arms wrapped around your loneliness? To fall asleep to someone else’s breathing and not to the low, distant murmur…
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