memento mori

Over the summer, I met with Kristen, my slam poetry co-coach and we mapped out our year. We talked about what we'd love to have our students write about. Both of us brought up mortality. We're a little morbid like that, asking high school students to write about the end of life. Kristen showed me... Continue Reading →

2019 in review

Every year, there are donuts. Holden and I spent the last of his preschool days together. We spent a lot of time at Dave & Buster's, won a bunch of jackpots, got a lot of stuffies. There was so much joy. Holden turned five. Brandon turned seven. We made art. So much joy. My slam... Continue Reading →

little deaths

2019 has been a year of little deaths. What I mean is folded up notes of endings shoved into my pocket, one after another until my pocket is bulging. I had a break up that was very hard. Very, very hard. I lost my lover and best friend and confidant and writing pal all at... Continue Reading →

Q319 Songs

This last season was full of everything. Here are the songs that got me through: Go To Town – Doja Cat High on the Beach – Lana Del Ray It's Strange – Louis the Child featuring K. Flay Wake Up Alone – Amy Winehouse Bossy  – Kellis Whatta Man – Salt n Pepa Feel Something... Continue Reading →

how they killed Crane Coffee

Last Saturday, I got a text from my bakery manager inviting me to an event that would take place four days later. I was told to dress in business attire and given the address to an event hall. I couldn't go, I replied. Ilya Kaminsky was in town that night and I had to see... Continue Reading →

yearning

Here's what it's like, splitting custody of my children after spending years putting them to bed each night, dressing them each morning, hearing their laughter and squabbles at all hours, watching their little heads bob as they move. Sometimes I stand at my stove, stirring noodles into boiling water for myself and it is so... Continue Reading →

hallowed nights alone

I keep chasing this quiet. The hallowed silence, the absence of the sounds of other people. I am a private person. I like to hole up in my own space without anyone asking me to do something else instead. I have to learn to say no to people, learn to make my own quietness as... Continue Reading →

finding comfort

It's been fourteen years since I pushed a baby out of body, swearing like a sailor. Fourteen years since I swallowed that fistful of tears and said yes, she is yours. Ten days after she was born, I loaded down my plastic Saturn and hit I-90, never to return home. At the beginning, there was... Continue Reading →

Fucking July

Featured in the final issue of Ink in Thirds, March 2019 Last July, at a friend's prompt, I wrote what July felt like. During this month, I feel myself turn into a concrete slab. I don't make eye contact with people. When I feel an emotion--any emotion--I turn away from it, focus on something that... Continue Reading →

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑