Not Today

I see through your game of pretense; the game of tag that has no end. I see through you time, even when you slam minutes into the crown of my head—a hammer to a nail: pound, pound, pound I see through you fear, even when you drag me to the edge of the cliff and … More Not Today


Her words And hers And hers… They are a cage, always reminding me of what’s not there. My words And mine And mine And ours… They are a map: black and white instructions on how to escape, how to flip my sights from empty to full, how to live my life… Instead of hers and … More Script

Sharp Lens

I nod politely, my eyes shift towards the green street sign a hundred feet away the table chatter about potty training and sleepless nights and FaceTime calls and zombie days from disrupted sleep of motherhood dial down into white noise And Sacramento Street comes to focus, floats towards me through the thick air, drenching me … More Sharp Lens


Then… I spent nights anxiously, twisting and turning worrying about traffic patterns and being late whether I’d sustain the commute Now? the tectonic plates under me have shifted almost all the way to the left and I’m barely hanging on, relying on my arms and fingernails to save me. Now, it’s not financial fears that … More 3.6.5.


Rosy cirrus clouds spread their wings across the blush skies, carelessly sprawling their wispy feathers  You see, it’s solstice and they are showing off,   Sweeping the horizon like rulers of the heavens, trains of their gowns blowing behind them in the summer wind.   And I? I tilt my head in respect, bowing unworthy.