I thought that the empty space inside of me was beginning to fill itself, like a smudged glass floating in the sink, waiting to be overtaken. Eager to drop below the surface. Whether it was something hiding deep within me or in you that was slowly dripping into it, I can’t be cer...

there is a sculpture garden at the end of my street. at night when I walk past, I feel afraid. The sculptures limbs are comprised of recycled car parts and they twist and mangle every which way in the dark, their shadows large and oppressive.

i’d like to write a love story, but i can’t figure out how to express something felt so deeply using something as limited as language

texas winters are not enjoyable because they are particularly beautiful or pleasant but because they are novel. i have felt that way my entire life. four years ago those feelings began to fade.

i believe that we as women are inclined to love both beautiful things and those that bring us immense suffering

an ache in my womb so visceral i felt there might be a tangible empty space inside of me

there was a time when i equated love to bondage and thought the two words interchangable

the conversations purpose was more to hear the way the words sounded coming out of his mouth, in his voice, than to understand his answers

we met at the start of a particularly rainy spring. The first time was in late march, and the chill of winter had not fully trailed away, but the anticipation of the coming season was so warm even from a distance that I wore summer clothes atop my winter fleece to see you.

february took away everything that was mine

I was named after my grandmother who my mother hated and who hated my mother. perhaps this is why she scorned me so. margaret.

around the corner from my apartment, there is a funeral home. most afternoons there is a crowd of mourners standing outside. it always feels a bit strange to maneuver through them on the way home. strangely they never seem sad or grief-stricken. i’ve never seen someone crying out...

ss the clock turned to midnight, marking the start of the new year, I watched from my apartment window, trying to catch a glimpse of the fireworks before they burned away