Monthly Archive: December, 2016

an excerpt from a book I’ll never write.

remember those long summer days when you were out the door as soon as breakfast was over — popsicle juice running down your chin, swinging so high the clouds seemed within reach? and… Continue reading

december 19th, 2016

it was good for awhile — being empty. because being empty meant nothing hurt anymore. it meant no memory could touch me and nothing could pass through the walls I had so intricately… Continue reading

the thing about him/hurt.

“one more round,” she said, waving her shot glass in a circle. it’s been exactly two months, four days, 47 minutes since he walked out. like the remains of a burned down building,… Continue reading

you.

the universe may have disguised you as just another human, but to me, I believe you’re made of some of the greatest undiscovered constellations. you’ve got stardust in your bones, a magic in… Continue reading

wave after wave.

the thing about depression is that it doesn’t arrive like a sunday morning. there’s no morning grace, no hallelujah, no slow to wake. when it hits, it hits like one of those bone-chilling… Continue reading