Housemate
#GrowingUp, I housed a battered, silent, shriek: “#StopFighting!” It never moved out. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
#GrowingUp, I housed a battered, silent, shriek: “#StopFighting!” It never moved out. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
I should go to bed, bury my ear and head in a pillow of sweet smelling sheets and sleep, maybe Egyptian cotton, or something on sale I bought off #AmazonPrime. Because, see, I spend so much time online, I start to see things like #promos and #discounts and #coupons as #BigData puppies tugging at the
On days when #FacebookIsToxic – those are the days to #WritePoetry. Go ahead. #Hashtag the hell out of #inspiration, #art, and #TheCreative. Use whatever #MetaphorWorks. Breathe #life back into a dead thing gone wrong. #Lazarus didn’t rise because #JesusHealedHim. He sat up in a stony tomb, peeled away his gritty bandages, felt the new, smooth
I’m going to miss my neck. No, I’m not headed to the guillotine, or decapitating myself in some obscene science experiment – though my brother wants to freeze his brain, not by eating ice cream, but trying cryogenics. I’m not into it. But I digress. Last year, I held a funeral for my uterus. It
Purple was accidental. I like how it looked on my website. So I started out with a logo, a two-tone purple half-arrow, pointing up towards something, whatever it was for the day. Then I moved on to business cards. And purple brochures. And pens. Hues and tones of purple, blueberry in between, purple scarves, plum