You know the one. — There’s a certain kind of girl men seem to gravitate towards as if she is a force like gravity or the moon or even the sun in the middle of a solar system. I watch the men watch her. I know I can never be her, no matter what clothes…

A Poem — your picture perfect life crumbled before your very eyes — and you expect me to weep? why, when the happiest for you was the lowest for me? you had it all — the house, the car, the red carpet, the lifestyle, all that spark — and I watched from afar like you were a ghost of…

And there we go again, beginning at zero. — Hello, it’s me. Oh, wait, we’re not in an Adele song, are we? Let’s scratch that. (Honestly, though, can’t everyone imagine herself/himself in the narrative of at least one Adele song? But I digress.) It all starts with words on a page — careful words, phrases spun for poetry (perhaps…

And maybe they do exist for some people out there — who can say? — A former coworker of mine is getting ready to celebrate her first wedding anniversary, and today marks the first time I met her husband since they’ve been living out of the country per his job situation and visa status. As I had dared to hope, they were delightful together in…

A Poem — oh, we think we’re just the playthings of the gods — and we take to charting the stars just to look for the answers we seek maybe there are no yes’s or no’s in this grand story of the universe where fire consumes all in its wake while rainwater falls as poison…

Oh, what did he glimpse in her eyes? — Sir Edward felt as if he’d been wandering the forest paths for hours on the way to the king’s castle in the south. The slices of sky he could see through the branches bespoke of a storm to come, but shelter still felt far away as Sir Edward jostled his…

I don’t think it gets much worse for an introvert like me. — Somehow, I’ve worked over six months at my job without having to man phones. Projects and department losses have allowed me to go under the radar in this regard, even though I knew the inevitable would come. The reprieve has come to an end with shifts in which I enter…

A Poem — they think it’s funny when I tell them I write — as if there’s shame in words concocted from an overactive mind “how do you think your movies and songs and plays and shows are made — if not from a writer’s head?” but I don’t say the damning words because I…

A Poem — happiness fled the moment you left, and I’d just sit there in a cocoon of silence till the tremors faded and there was release with the gush of sadness leaking out my eyes the tears were the first and the last sign that I could move on, with or without you, and come out the…