She was a quiet child, always lost in the silent fields of fantasy while she gathered acorns with a perpetual furrow of thoughtfulness between her brown eyes. In a low lilting tune that was sad and happy all at once, her mother would sing to her of a peasant girl who becomes a princess, and
I watched your body slowly putrefy as mutated B-cells Dispersed their alien poison into your pristine ecosystem Steeped in stress, a life out of your control. You ignored the initial warnings Denied the changing climate within The fire on your skin The flood across your landscape. The inescapable truth made you recognize A need to
The doctors are our age now. They may have white coats on sometimes, but they wear t-shirts, sneakers, and have youthful faces. Mostly men so far, but damn, these guys are nice. I don’t just mean good bedside manner, or whatever that expression is. I mean they are working to support you because they believe
Here is a space Tucked in the trees Where water flows freely and pure Children dance to the sounds of the wind Truth follows us The teachings of those who came before Are passed down Over and over Colours change as years pass Love flourishes and thrives Sunlight dances on the water Twisting and twirling
everyone you meet is a reflection of you. and just like everyone, you are deserving of extraordinary love. you are light, sunshine in your veins.you are a child of the universe. you are allowed to take up space. after all, you are stardust.you exist, and that is enough. you are worthy, an exceptional creature. like a magnolia tree, you too shall
As I sit on my chair at the desk near the doorThe curtains drawn completelyI hear a voice below the nightIt’s speaking to me. Nature’s greatest song is crickets’Haunting, taunting cryThe bass of a neon highwayA songbird in the sky. Coyotes or frat boys howl at the moonIncredibly out of tuneBeethoven’s Symphony No. 7Plays in
In the forest a bird rises from anold and lengthy tree.As it beats its feathers it looksout from there to see The mountainside, so wild and greenthe bird begins to sound.Its voice is a crescendoThat is heard from all around. From its perch the bird can see aLabyrinth, frigid dark.This frosted crypt with cobalt veinsLeft
After hurling her phone at the wall, Miranda left her apartment to knock on her neighbours’ door across the hall. Miranda was four years into motherhood. Four unyielding years that created a near permanent look of despair on her face, along with an atmosphere of bewilderment emanating from her pores—or her soul—she wasn’t sure which.
We are at my grandma and grandpa’s property at Chain Lake near Princeton. They bought it so the whole family can come here on weekends to camp with them. I’m wearing my flowered flannel pjs and I have my Holly Hobby sleeping bag pulled up right up to my chin. My dad likes to turn
The bouncer looked over May’s blonde head as she made her way inside the lineless bar, as she did every Sunday evening. The other patrons looked to her, then away, for they all thought it best to acknowledge her as little as possible—especially the bouncer. May had not yet reached twenty-one years, but
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