“You are so good. So good. You’re always feeling so much, and sometimes it feels like you’re gonna bust open from all the feeling, don’t it? People like you are the best in the world, but you sure do suffer for it.” My writing is rarely confessional. I try to open the juicy goodness of … Continue reading You Call That a Knife? This Is A Knife.
Takes a deep breath and exhales. Pauses for a moment. Then begins to type. It’s been months now. It feels longer, like this has always been my life. If you knew what rages inside me you, too, would see the flat cloud formation at the top of the storm. I rain over myself, pull up … Continue reading The Storm Before the Calm
When they take me by the shirt and try to remind me who I am, I push the words back into their not-now cages. Nobody wants to read them, I remember. You don’t need to add any more vividness to it, I urge myself as if I were another. Don’t amplify their voices. Let them die down, … Continue reading Writer Girl, Interrupted