the ghost ship the ghost ship for Aldiana, who was there. for my friends, who understand. “Breathe,” she >
writing through pain i was chatting with a “friend”not talking… or texting…or skypingjust “chatting” in that little blue and white box i had “known” hermaybe,more than a year…and,>
being the me that is (me) there are times when i don’t want to be the me that is me no i’m not saying i wish to end myself or to become someone, anyone, anyone else>
model (pretty) true i hidei live afraidalone insidemy hall of mirrors myinner hallof shameyes yes yesit startedsosoveryyoungme,the daughterof >
why do i cry? why do i cry when you say something nice? why? why do i cry …when you touch softly my face? why do i cry? when i succumb… …to your gentle >
november november (might be triggering)november 11, 2008 i’m cold. not quite shaking. not quite. but, almost to the point of shaking. i feel these pre-goosebumps coming on. this weird tingling. >
a poem for irina poulet irina poulet passed away in 2013. irina was a poet, writer, and intellectually supercharged womyn. she struggled for many years with anorexia and myriad emotional challenges. she was an incredible >
i don’t remember May 31, 2015 8:29 p.m. it took me many months to write this poem… it kind of came to me in a flash, but i couldn’t finish it. it’s not >
no longer me august 5, 2011 i am no longer a breath i am no longer a hope i am no longer the person you thought you loved i am no longer loved>
