(l)on(e)ly

It seeps, the silence

Deep into the cracks

I try to cover with glittery nail polish

But they just end up chipped like my ego

After a conversation

With anyone but you

Recent Posts

I’m a kid. Maybe seven. Or nine. Who can tell. We’re at Christmas mass, my family and I. I’m in a nice dress, but it's itchy. Why are...

The smell of paint, the sticky sucking sound of wet paint rolled onto walls. This was a clean start, an adult room. Light and airy and...