words from the soul
Hunger is a passion. It sears and claws and begs… Feed me… touch me… consume me… Take this part of me that wants. It is dying to be free. Feel it, smooth and soft, and jagged. Breathe in the scent of discontent. Embrace the folds of tenderized skin. There is beauty somewhere here; it is dying to be seen. Stoke the flame, stroke the shame, bring me to my knees.
Do you know where You are? Have you found the place you fit? Do you like it there, between the what and the who and the when? Do you feel settled where you are? Or are you like me Floating through it all knowing that the strings that tie me in place also weigh around … Continue reading Settled
She calls me, breathless. "It was amazing," she panted. "I loved it. I was made for this, Ima. I need it." Patched up by the threads trailing behind her gathering into a seam sewn with every fall and knotted with each triumphant rise, my lungs fill. My hands slow their spasms. My head sweeps the … Continue reading The Place Where I Belong
Recently a friend asked me what I was looking for. I've been searching for a job for the past few months. I joined all the groups on Facebook and I tidied up my resume. I let people know I'm looking and created a LinkedIn account. I sent out my resume to a few relevant places … Continue reading Defining Me
Colloquially Speaking 