Category: Creative
Watcher
(Written in 1997) This was not the first time he had been there, by any call. Steve had been there on many occasions, his back pressed against the cold concrete...
You Can’t Repair What Was Never Broken
you told me i was brokenbecause i didn’t actthe way you wantedand i didn’t thinkthe way you wantedand i believed you i told myself to follow the rul...
Don’t Talk To Me
Don’t talk to me. Talking is too easy.Mouths flowing with empty words:How are you?The weather turned cold.Do you have any plans this weekend?What do you d...
today’s the day
today’s the day i’ll wake upfeeling comfortable in my own skini’ll look in the mirror and see myself for who i amnot a freaknot an insecure me...
My Book About Me
The most prestigious writing award I ever won was for a story I wrote in high school called “Pity the Unicorns.” Scholastic gave me an “Honora...
the screen disappeared
miss the phone and miss the starwaiting by the balcony this week seems anxious:any hint of something coming up outside? only for a minute carefully he had to se...
Protected: I Sing Last, Not For Tears
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
The Worst Poems
the worst poemis the poem left unwrittenheld so close to the chest that it suffocatesbefore it can whisper its truth the second worst poemis written from compli...
The Cycle Must Be Broken
i am from a long line of oppressors who built this countrywith bricks and glass carved (but not by themselves)from the mountains and the seasides of a stolen la...