If you must stick around, do some good Come push me, come show me, teach me, guide me. Have your spirit be my mentor, not my tormentor. Tell him to seduce me to live my life, not crave your lust. The mischief, sadistic, vampiric soul is no longer welcome. Follow…

Conversations at a bridal shower — Factual, down-to-earth conversation would be how I would describe what was happening at the end of the table where I was sitting at a bridal shower last night. It was not ill-intended. It was not a criticism of what our friend in the spotlight was about to embark herself into…

Almost can’t hide behind a poker face Eyes attempt to lose focus, ping pong moves along the confines of the bright screen. Impersonal calls becomes the trap, expressions that can’t hide even when they try. That poker face, almost succeeds at hiding behind the way it feels to meet again. …

And I Also Write Poetry — The walls that separate us, the seas that cover all the footprints, the deafening noise that attempts to cover, hide, conceal the love we wish could be set free. None of that worked. None of it can keep our souls away. I still speak to you without words: in my daydreams, in my…

First day of summer; the longest day. — Sweet and sour summer power. Wait all season for a good reason. Longest day, I restfully lay. Then the jarring bark of the too-soon dark. Dreams of endless, sunny days. Summer incites. Real become the longer nights, ephemeral days. Summer betrays. Follow me on Twitter for more thoughts, poetry and…

The company they keep. — Alone never means lonely, as even when alone, our company can take a multitude of forms; Air, fire, water, ice, are the greatest company that makes us feel alive. Thank you, Harper Thorpe and the entire Chalkboard team for the one line prompt: Alone Follow me on Twitter for more…

Her story, and that of many others like her — Her. She was the other woman, she had come to terms with the term, but the term did not fit her. Her. The sole mention of that word was like that sharp finger pointing straight, at her with blame, with judgment. Her. She after all had accepted that it was not in…

One-Line Poem Prompt: ‘Phobia’ Is it philophobia that I feel, or is it love’s own nyctophobia causing it to elude me, phobias clashing and exploding, leaving floating pieces of unowned, unclaimed love? Inspired by Chalkboard’s One-Line Poem Prompt: ‘Phobia’ Follow me on Twitter for more thoughts, poetry and my writing…

A lost, untethered soul — Friendship that felt like an unbreakable shield. Hands that felt like a nesting cradle. Love that felt like an almighty force. Betrayal that felt like a piercing sword. Absurdity that felt like a furious whirlwind. Confusion that felt like an unanchored boat. The words that once guided me became the words…