The sheets with tiny pink rosebuds, incongruously innocent, are tangled beneath us. Your lips travel from my earlobe, kissing slowly down my neck, marking your
Your mouth is so close to my cheek That I can feel the warmth of your breath Smell the coffee you had at 4 o’clock
She had been collecting her tattoos for a while. It had felt increasingly important for her truth to be etched upon her skin in indelible
“In a pool of infinite darkness called life, don’t fear that light glowing beneath surface.” I am more than micro-tales of love or unbearable heartache.
Friends, they had always just been friends. Good friends. Friends who could always make the other laugh. Who it was never too late to call
I have a confession to make– I am a long-time fan of the show Criminal Minds. I probably watch way too many dark, procedural dramas
The dilemma, she thought, of finally finding her voice was that it was not enough simply to speak. This voice, which had lain dormant in
Another poem written in my teens, circa 1982. The ending has been reworked slightly I am a bird soaring the heavens Feel the wind