The Beach

A pink-blue horizon, a sky speckled with the softness of uncertain clouds, The waves gently crashing, and the ocean, calling with beckoning mouths The waters melt away the world, stripping bare all the day Holding my breath on all of the words you know I never needed to say Hair wet and dripping, skin salty … Continue reading The Beach

Why Don’t You Write Anymore?

I feel like sometimes I have these stories floating inside me, like worms trapped in my stomach eating at my insides. Parasites resting in my brain between the grey-pink folds of me. Most of the time I barely care, like an old oak being strangled by ivy, I hardly notice the infestation. I engulf myself … Continue reading Why Don’t You Write Anymore?