She confuses love with abuse so easily. But why are they synonymous? She saw her first thesaurus in the attic, Just before he unbuckled his pants And closed the shades. "She's mature for her age," they tell her mother. She can slice her own apples and pour her own cereal, But she's only five years... Continue Reading →
You wake up in the morning to a text message that asks your permission in allowing a friend to get a line of your poetry tattooed. I didn't cry but I will when I see it. I'm so happy my work affected someone so much.
I like the way your mouth moves when you lie to me: Mocking the shapes of truth. Your tongue's best quality Was how it could seduce Me, and tamper with my innards Like a lion playing with his food. I like the way you hold my hand although I know you can't feel your fingertips-... Continue Reading →