Someday you will be driving down the street and see me on the sidewalk holding a battered poster board with crayon scrawl: will write stories for boba tea & sushi - i have 23 plants to support. I'll live in a small apartment above an antique shop with a partially stained glass window and a… Continue reading poor artist muses about Hawaii
The airport floor is so patched and greasy it looks like a shot of black coffee, an eighteen-hour-built-state-of-loopy-exhaustion, and a shoulder devil named Boredom drove person after person to survive their grueling layovers by dropping their McDonalds to splat on the floor for entertainment purposes. And then proceeded to convince them that rubbing it into… Continue reading Can We Please Stop and Appreciate?
It is pitchblack and you can see the constellations The four-lane highway is empty and forgotten The air is chilly and cool The crickets are deafening You never see another soul Deer pass you The entire walk you can untangle the knotted threads in your mind At the top the valley is filled with twinkling… Continue reading 8.31.19 | pros to hiking at 4 a.m.
Like a flock of startled birds flapping out their wings for flight umbrellas in the crowd open wide. They bob like bottles in a stream, colors catching eyes but secrets corked inside. The taxi drivers honk like geese & grab which fish they can, pluck one up then drag it off with squeals and round… Continue reading Traffic in the City {poetry}
I'm a very crafty person. No, no. Not that kind of crafty. Despite what gossip my character have been spreading, I am not a crafty villain scheming up plans of horror and pain. Maybe. I mean 'crafty' as in, I like to take little string and sit for a couple hours looping it on sticks… Continue reading All the Summer Vibes // hiking, writing, reading, and that glorious sunburn
I'm a writer, I'm a poet, I'm a chapter I've written. A character built out of nothing but my life and hands. They stain my pages because I bleed and wilt. I'm a writer, I'm a poet, I form worlds out of words and people out of trees. Watch me resurrect a dragon, a storm,… Continue reading i am a writer {poetry}
Have you ever just wanted to write for the sake of writing? Nothing planned. Nothing plotted. After a long day of pounding out papers and scratching out math equations, just you and your thoughts winding out slowly onto the page, forming little splotches of black on white. The itch comes every once and a while… Continue reading a little post named “random”
the rain-drenched writer. 