free verseA collection of 30 posts

It hasn’t killed me yet— but it spreads. From marrow to memory, it seeds the femur, threads the ribs, scrapes its code into the curve of my pelvis— then…

Novels often feel like campaigns now— high highs and low lows. Blame D&D for that, maybe? Every moment either life-or-death or tavern banter. Subtlety doesn’t earn XP.…

We promised to share the weight, so I carried the groceries and the grief. I took your name, and the calls, and the questions no parent should have to answer.…

You are not a burden. You are tired— not broken. You are in need— not too much. You are still here— That is triumph.…

We ran for the running, chased nothing, won joy. Grass-stained knees Popsicle tongues Palms full of gravel and glory. I was a mom-shaped kid— barefoot, loud, rebecome. And you— you…

I was a mother. I was a wife. I was— —I was The door clicks shut— and I’m breathless air, a question unasked, unformed. The street rings under unmoored…