the ice jam of words long lodged at the back of my throat has begun to melt syllable by delicious syllable that tickle going down they roil in my gut conscious kinetic unsettled pressure of repressed feeling building against the shape-shifting mass that remains blocking my flow will I exhale delicate crystals into my waiting … Continue reading Ice


blank screen looks reproachfully at me You are a writer the blinking cursor states So write I rub stiff hands tender wrists sore knees knead the knots in my back feel the mental fog spreading suspending my thoughts like bees in liquid amber I’m blocked I retort too tired too much pain too fuzzy blank … Continue reading Blocked


words and phrases lay abandoned on every flat surface and on the floor below me so much glittering confetti that crunches under my bare feet the party over guests long gone home leaving me alone adrift among empty wine glasses plates of half-eaten promise I feel simultaneously sick from fare far too rich with false … Continue reading Empty