A Poem — she is the stuff of silver stardust as her silhouette dances across the stage, and there was never a moment when she was not the starlet doomed to break a few hearts she jumps into the arms of her prince, a mere mortal, who will never be enough — but it is…

A Poem — The books were never enough, were they? I could have written every story and covered the ceiling in words straight from my heart, but you never would have noticed because all this time I was just talking to myself, wasn’t I? Your name was written on my heart, but where was…

A Poem — do you ever fear the dark, not because of the monsters that may lurk in the shadows but that cold creep of the unknown? I wanted to know the story, so I followed you into the fields even as I lost myself over and over, a memory doomed to repeat. …

Oh, we’re playing this game, are we? — The doctor’s hand shakes a little around the stem of his glass the moment his eyes meet mine. I smile and act shy as I murmur a hello. You look surprised to see me. How long has it been? Five years? I take a flute of champagne for myself and…

Will it never end? — Sometimes I think my family is just waiting for the day I go crazy again. I won’t call out names, but one of my family members couldn’t get a hold of me at work one day. …

It’ll haunt you. — “Please let me know if you get overwhelmed with anything I give you to do, okay?” The words from my direct supervisor shocked me when she voiced them over one of our regular calls just a few days ago. …

Was she a novelty or a nuisance? — Terra Nox was the place to be on the night of a full moon simulation. My friend Ziedra and I danced to the beat-bam-beat of the music filtering through the overhead speakers. If we had closed our eyes and focused, we probably could have floated, our bodies dangling above the…

Let me share my existential crisis with you. — “Legacy, what is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see” — Lin-Manuel Miranda, “The World Was Wide Enough” from Hamilton: An American Musical As I near my thirty-second birthday, I find myself thinking about the word legacy more and more. I think about the…

What did I ever miss in the first place? — I’ve lost count of how many years it’s been. The tick-tick-tick keeps going in my heart, but you’re long gone. Someday soon I won’t even be able to count the years on my fingers — yet the gray area has begun to sweep in, clouding everything and making the picture…