2020, ‘21, ‘22, ‘23… a sleeping ghost bird, a skinny first draft existing.
albeit i visted it, edited it only yearly, it haunted me daily… sweetly. sweetly because the fire of the thought “i’m writing a story” dialates the pupils.

But it’s not writing if the pen isn’t gliding, if the keys are not clicking or clacking.

Ok, ok so it was 2017, ‘18…read more

A beautiful thought too hot to swallow
I’d chirp and choke instead of sit and settle
a small inspired smile.

I’d write 160 characters and move on
instead of rest to grow a full poem, story or song.

I’d gain hearts and attention
loose intention, diligence, and wholeness.

It was time to move on. let go of those I followed and the thousands that…read more

Dear Violet,

It’s been ten years and now you’re 40 with a 24-year-old son. He still has disabilities and your husband still stays home. You’re still the one who works because, well… it’s what works. People still don’t understand your situation and you still get stares and speculation (especially since every uncommon behavior grew with his si…read more