An altar for language and longing. I write where shadows and ink intertwine, and truth tastes like smoke and honey.
Because apparently enlightenment comes in rubber form Picture it: Puerto Rico, 2012.A brutally hot summer day. I sat there in indigo-blue slacks and a coral-striped shirt with matching coral flip-flops. My toes wiggled as I looked down at them, happily licking my cherry-flavored piragua. I was perched on a
They actually make me really mad. I don’t like that they are red and there’s no shape to be had. I don’t like that I tried to make them into a constellation. So that perhaps one day, they would suddenly have meaning and it would be some
Take up space… Wear the big hat. Wear the boots. Wear the cat eye makeup. Take up space… Laugh loudly. Smile proudly. Give them the finger. Take up space… Drive fast. Drive slow. Take the road less traveled on. Take up space. Cut cords. Say goodbye. Walk away. Take up
I am a Brown Recluse... hidden in the furthest corners of my room. Here, I web and weave, but no longer play. I watch the sun rise and fall, every single day. I observe in silence, with careful attention, still hoping for some kind of holy redemption. But there’s
It was a warm summer day. I stood in the store with my cart full of ingredients. With you in mind. You texted me, and I lit up... like a giggling teenage girl, strolling the aisles, thinking about our dinner. I saw the floral plates. Teal, with bright flowers. They
Your mind might carry visions of me, swaying near, My scent lingering, though I’m far, still clear. Fingers recall the firmness of legs once held tight, Strength to resist, to fend off your might. Your heart quickens at echoes that hint of my name, A sparkle on your skin,
To fall in love with a witch is to see the world in a different light, Where shadows dance with whispers of her smile, her laughter. She infiltrates your mind, a siren’s call echoing in the stillness, Her love, a distant ember, glowing even when betrayal taints the air.
Men with empty vessels cannot fill the vessel of a woman who holds the entire universe within hers. Where literal gods roam in her gardens of Eden, where sunsets are painted in the flush of her lips, and sunrises hide in the strands of her hair. No, they cannot fathom
Underneath the trees and among the fields of sunflowers she grazed the sharp grass with her fingertips. Her womb danced at every breath she took and at every sigh that escaped. And with a gentle caress she calmed the entity within. With the gentle breeze humming all the way through
I’m escaping the norms and the paradigms I’ve known, Packing them neatly, my past overthrown. I head to the station, suitcase in hand, Waiting for death’s swift wings to take me to a new land. Desperate for safety, a new place to rest, A haven, a burrow,
This piece is a reflection on wonder, art, and the ache of craving deeper connection in a hyper-automated, hyper-curated world. It’s for anyone who's felt restless in the mundane and still believes in the magic of the human mind. What If You’re Not Bored, Just Underwhelmed
Because apparently birth control couldn’t just regulate my cycle, it had to give me a dump truck and an identity crisis. So, listen… I was never a fan of birth control. I tried it once in my early twenties because of irregular cycles, and when I say I transformed