Like many of you, the last six months have taken a significant toll on me physically, emotionally, and cognitively. I have been a sporadic blogger
Ever since the lockdown began the sky has been unendingly blue. Yesterday the cherry trees in front of the flat across the street started releasing
Ever since the launch of Brave & Reckless, I have posted raw and intense writing about sexual trauma, shame, rage, symptoms of PTSD, and survival.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about my struggle about what to post on Brave and Reckless during these uncertain times (While Rome Burns). My
I am still accepting submissions for my ‘I am more than breath and bone’ April Creativity Prompt Challenge. I have already posted some fabulous submissions
Midnight, April 1, 1994: I have officially just turned eighteen. With all the wisdom of his twenty-something years, the bouncer looks at my drivers license
Throwing my phone down in frustration, I mutter under my breathe – ENOUGH! I’ve been glued to the stupid thing all day…constantly searching for new
Withered flowers on his crowned head. A blackened leafy dress on his bodice. Thorns of growing greed around his limbs Gracefully gliding along his skin.
The whole world has climbed into their attics or maybe down to the spooky parts of their basements where they found the trunks grandparents and