My work 

people leave me things. they are Angels that find me and open my hands and leave things there. like angel key rings or drawings or...

i’m back there to how i used to be to the best the best. i fall in love a bit with everyone i meet. i’d like all the mundanity; your...

the shame. the shame. so much there is so unbelievably much running through my heart my brain my lungs my life my throat my pancreas my...

i crave masculinity in rolled sleeves and blossoming knuckles. i own femininity in duality and the poems i left in portugal. my stomach...

i’ve been sat here grasping and gripping and ,looking for the words and they’ve been caught in the wedding veil i wear to marry the...

tenderness is a gift and my poems lack it. violence; danger; loud voices; quiet cries what creates such gentleness? i almost missed my...

i’ll have a grave. i’ll make it for myself. people will read my journals one day and whim and say ‘she was contemplating death at 17. she...

is it discipline or freedom or pain or sorrow when i must stop to write? are questions worth asking when i know? i know? every answer is...

my poems are searching for me; frantically, under the bed. frantically. i’ve been writing about ruining young girls and terrified women...

shrink to be digestible, shrink to be palatable - choke on me. choke. (the ouroborus bites is own tail off and the cycle ends. ruin a...

i don’t mean to sound distressed. my stories of cracking ribs and heaving breaths are not stories of my brokenness. rather, they are...

i’ve been asking so many questions recently. why, and how does it feel and when and -how? i have one more left (one more i promise) (she...

i wrote about a girl who liked sweet tea once. i’d love to meet her. sit in front of her and share a pot of the loveliest nicest warmest...

the rain’s been waiting for me for me loneliness and solitude tingle at the end of my arteries. isn’t it weird? all four of my limbs are...

they’re in the wrong order aren’t they? is mercury meant to come before venus? i can’t remember all the promises you made but i’m sure...

december, you haven’t returned my calls. i want to cut my hair again. i am pretty with short hair; pretty when i don’t carry all the...

are you still too sleepy? i count constellations around my hair follicles and my fingers tangled in saturn. in space, the sun never sets...

i post a lot of beautiful poems. but i don't always feel beautiful inside and sometimes i have harder days. even the agony is wonderful,...

i am unlearning expansive blue skies and disaquainting myself with time in the tripping and sobbing of sunsets and sunrises. i wear...

best poem yet? yeah i think so. cried a lot for this one. enjoy the very best part of me, right here in font size 11. as i walk down the...