Life Comes Knocking — Crashing in When you don’t answer. Some people just can’t take a hint. *This form of poetry is called a Fib, based on the Fibonacci sequence, and is usually 1-1-2-3-5-8.  This piece was first published on Medium, by Poetry-in-Form. If you’d like to read more of my other poetry and prose, feel […]


Back home, where we were told we could be whoever — so we chose to run. Run away with me? This piece was originally published on Medium, by Poetry-in-Form, and is part of a project called Chained: A collaborative Cinquain chain. Click on the link to check out the full project, with all the other stanzas. If […]


You didn’t believe them when they said Someday, your views would change. You thought they were old and couldn’t understand. You were wrong. You couldn’t comprehend the knowledge they were pressing wrought from experiences that you couldn’t be saved from Sometimes, harm, is the best thing that can come from living. It hurt. God, did […]


You are 24 and have learned that Time passes and keeps on passing you. You are 24, with thoughts that count as vaguely-new but are nothing new. Your soul is weary but your muscles are still capable of keeping up, You push and push and hustle because you are only 24. You are 24 and your friends are married, […]

I work good.

You are not a fighter, but you became a warrior. You wear mismatched socks and genuinely have zero fucks to give to those who haven’t earned the right to judge. You cut off long tresses and long relationships that were leading nowhere because a short bob is easy to manage and requires no maintenance. Life […]

a recipe a day: The Litchi Sally

Part of why I love what I do so much is because I get to drink… A lot. The creative process is hard, and before you pass too harsh a judgement, I’m not entirely an alcoholic. I just like to drink. OK, that’s a lie. I love drinking, and I love this drink. Why? Let […]

while you were sleeping: the best Irish Coffee recipe

It’s a bittersweet memory, an odd snippet of my past, without any context, but it fills me with a strange longing, a strange belonging and it beckons. The memory is this: two teenagers, sitting on brownstone steps, hands stuffed into pockets in a desperate attempt to keep warm. Beanies pulled low, noses cold, and a […]