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 →

Orwell: The little boy I never met

The rocks he kicks with his feet Fall into place without any purpose. He steps into the sand and buries pebbles he finds. The pebbles and rocks mutter his name. Orwell. Socks filled with dirt, Shoes collecting memories. A little baby boy, Named by a mother and her love for Animal Farm. It was the... Continue Reading →

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