Holidays were a breathing embodiment of hell.
Conceal my name. Forget my name.
inflamed hands shield a lifelong tapestry of dreams denied for molten survival.
Moments before midnight, after scarfing down a collective dinner, I lept upstairs two steps at a time to prepare to call a friend. I rushed to the bathroom, accidentally squeezing the nozzle seconds early and effectively spraying my belly button, thigh, and a majority of my right leg.
“Toxic Relationships” was recently published with Persephone’s Daughters. This poem was born out of a desperation to recognize the repetition of toxicity in a series of relationships. I had just left yet another abusive relationship but found myself alas in yet another abusive situation (though I was only beginning to recognize and admit it to myself then).
I have launched a monthly author newsletter!
A year ago, I committed myself to a daily writing process. This is a reflection on my accomplishments, failures, and the lessons learned along the way.
Even amidst the worst of humanity, the smile of two strangers gave me stamina to inhale and preserve hope that we will get through this.
Week 2 of my lockdown experience in India.
My poem "Washing the Past" has been accepted for publication. This is an older poem of mine and my writing style has distinctly improved over the years; however, this is a poem which testifies to what was undeniably crucial to my own story of survival.