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.
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.
It's exactly how it sounds.
I had just rediscovered the beauty of rhyming poetry, and I wasn't sure what to do with it or myself except come up with line after line after line in hopes of finding one that might be worthy or unworthy enough to become a poem.