There’s a pendulum swinging somewhere beyond the hedges of my periphery. A tick-tocking that reverberates distantly through the still air. But it doesn’t shake my chest with panic or fear. No. It’s more the sound of time being on my side. A sound of reassurance through this slow process of rediscovering myself. It’s a little… Continue reading Finding Myself
Category: Nonfiction
Starting Somewhere
It only takes one word Like a slow, hesitant breath Streaming into more fluid exhales – An even cadence Unfurling the tense coils Of anxiety From deep within the chest Until it becomes less painful To draw these words out Even when they Snag and bruise With their jagged edges At the exposed places And delicate fringes Of my mind A balsamic comfort Trails over these wounds Soothing the unease With the knowledge That… Continue reading Starting Somewhere
When the Night Comes
There is an intimacy that comes with the night. When the moon hoists herself high with unabashed flourish amid the glimmer of a star-studded sky. In the hours when the earth sighs soft and nocturnal melodies drift on the whistling wind. Here, in this room, where the walls are so thin they may not have… Continue reading When the Night Comes
1:03AM
I am afraid. That sole thought paces my skull like an echo of frantic footsteps over wooden floors. I am afraid that I no longer recognize who I am...or was when I first began writing here. I am afraid I no longer have that mind from which creative thought had bloomed — in an almost… Continue reading 1:03AM
Welcomed
Am I still welcome here? That's a strange question to ask. This is my blog, but I picture it as a room within the halls of an endless mansion that I share with faceless others. One that is now unfamiliar to me because of how long I've been gone. And this room no longer bears… Continue reading Welcomed
Loneliness
Sometimes it’s easy to forget: the things that are important or what you love. Because the distractions never come like a marauding beast yanking your arm and ripping all that you cherish from your chest. It often begins as an innocuous brush against the shoulder; an allure to the senses drawing you away from the fissures… Continue reading Loneliness
Inside the Coffee Shop
Their chatter runs light and low, like an ambient track idly playing in the background. While the smell of coffee, rich and addictively fragrant, infuses the lax air with its bittersweet levity. Inside the coffee shop, cozy with its rustic design; polished wood tables and padded leather chairs, my gaze roves face after face in… Continue reading Inside the Coffee Shop
Confessions
It’s hard to write sometimes and I envy those who make it look so easy. The ones who can so expertly spin gold out of only a few black threads; creating literary miracles that leave your mind in a lasting state of wonder. It’s okay to be honest, right? Sometimes I hate my inability to… Continue reading Confessions
Am I A Writer?
Have I misconstrued what it is to be a writer? Because my chest is crushed with an incompetent burden when I can’t find anything to write about. My mind has taken the form of an earth ravaged by drought; skeletal fingers of bone-thin trees stretched toward a dreary sky for a warm wind that will… Continue reading Am I A Writer?
Growing Apart
Your smileFades from memoryLike a forgotten polaroidAnd your laughterBears a nostalgic echoSkipping throughThe dim corridor of my thoughtsThough we promisedWe'd always be friendsOur conversationsGrow more infrequentAnd all I haveAre these vestigial reelsFlickering across my mindOf when we used to be SillyCloseTrue friendsNo one ever prepares youFor the emotional bruisesFrom g r o w i n… Continue reading Growing Apart
