The third part in my series of short shorts about loving but not needing coffee.
Me trying to be vulnerable.
A poem about finding a place in the world.
Coffee is only sometimes kryptonite.
Getting things right in the morning is hard, so there's coffee.
Don't look down; you might fall.
Reimagining an older poem of mine.
This is a short short story about a young girl who runs away from her abuser.
This is a poem I found today while looking through some of my old journals. The Master's Rhyme, which I used in a previous post, came out of an ending stanza that I cut from the version below.
This is a story about a woman who encounters what she thinks is a spider.