I wish my jeans were smaller

that I would speak less about things I don’t know about.

Even with my size

I feel I carry such heavyweight;

In my words

or my expressions.

I walk with my head down

and I have a nice curve down my spine.

I’m always carrying a backpack

and my shoes are too tight.

I crash into strangers

because I think I take up too much space.



My father told the crowd

that his daughter’s poetry

was made of lore and lyric.

It reminded him of roses,

but they were covered in dirt and blood,

And that in and of itself

was the best part.

Batter Up!

Some people are the waves.

Some people are the ocean.

But me,

I’m the whole damn thing.



Not everything taste so sweet this time of year 

Some things are bitter and sour

How I love the intensity of it all.

I want to reborn as sour candy 

I want to make someone’s mouth water

Their throat muscles clench at the site of me 

The problem with me is 

I want to be felt before I’m tasted.



I missed the night.IMG_3698

I smoked passion flower,

left a water bottle open in my bag,

slept with lipstick and glitter

for 12 hours and it’s still not enough.

You were in my dream–

at least a part of you was.

My childhood fish friend decided to move in with me.

It’s always dark now,

in every dream,

Blue, Black, Grey silvers of light

form the non-existing moon bounce off of puddles and trees.

I want to hide.

I want to be seen.

I don’t know which one I want more.

I am surrounded by vomit,


and sleepiness,

and disappointment.

When did everything I write become so dark?


Quit gagging (it’s not what you think)

I thought seeing you would make me feel better,

but now I feel worse.

As if I didn’t hate them already.

As if I needed another reason.

I would tell you if it was your fault,

but it’s really not.

I would speak the words

if they didn’t make me so sick.

I would say them loud

if I wasn’t already gagging.

Some people make you feel worse

while some make you feel better.




Tart cherry,

I lost my grandmother’s ring.

The one with the rose quartz

and silver wire wrap. 

I’m kneeling on my carpet 

looking for wet spots.

I’m always picking up and putting down

such odd flavors. 



Thick mud 

Dried raspberries 



And rotting gums 

Water weight 

Crossed eyes

Lazy eyesssss

Green teeth

Peacock hair 

The chariot 

The chariot

The chariot 

Lions and witches 



Energy balls 




Lessons learned from not writing shit down 

Lessons learned from lightning 



A twilight focus.

I can always feel the shifts.

The 8 of Wands

on the 8th day

of the 8th month,

for 27 years.

Did I mention my lucky number is 8?



Steve said my hair looked like the color of love.

That I sleep with my mouth open

and smoke too much weed.

I am filled with love.

I am overflowing.

I am surrounded.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I’ll never forget it again.