I suppose it makes sense to begin where we left. Kind of nonsensical, if you think about it too much, and I do – overthink, that is. My father would Continue Reading →
In poems, space is just as, and sometimes more, important than words. In real time, Ground Control attempts to reach my brain, finds only static. ‘The circuit’s dead, something’s wrong.’ Continue Reading →
Summary: Lingerie as a Trojan horse for feminism, or: Hiding politics in your panties. (If you haven’t read Part One, I suggest doing so. It’s right here).
Let’s get comfortable, friends. I’m about to share all of my scandalous secrets – actually, no, sorry, that’s a lie. Lesson the first: lingerie is only scandalous if you want Continue Reading →
Every creative person I talk to struggles to create. Writers, artists, musicians. We all identify strongly as these things. I am a writer. … But am I still a writer Continue Reading →
Living with chronic illness and disability forces us to make tough choices. To put our health first, even when that means missing out on special occasions, important moments, and big Continue Reading →
“Pain is a room for one. Only we can enter, and sometimes, we can’t leave.” … But what if someone else could actually picture the pain?
The record we’ve all been listening to is so scratched to shit it can only play one song. Spoilers: it’s the wrong one.
The cottage where I live used to be owned by a woman named Joyce. I don’t know much about Joyce, other than that she was an extremely particular gardener, with Continue Reading →