Lit Poetry

I see it now the bridge between past and present. a superstitious metaphor for metamorphosis and loss and moving on. As if somehow bridge crossing is a profound accomplishment while the...

if your absence was no longer a choice maybe the rest of our family would stop looking at me like a chipped-tooth smile they can all see right...

We created a version of ourselves that we could stomach, peeled the yellow wallpaper and brazenly fell in love with the madness we mistook for magic.        

I loved you once. Wasn’t for too long, Because you forbid me from it, remember? It started, and it stopped. It began from a word to a wink And...

When September came and you were gone with the setting skies and leaves that crunch like bone I took a trip down memory lane alone, in an orange-tinted...

Sometimes I just lay on the grass without moving; people call my name, but I don’t hear them. I’m too busy staring at the...

declared on a bunk bed in a cabin by a river your voice the sweetest sound of poison (I cannot forget) even in the heat of summer you held me...

I was magic; A burning kerchief turned into new fabric, A white dove that flew away from a magician's trick        

The ticking of the clock tells me it's time to dream, About the rise of an empire or perhaps the downfall of a king. Should it...

When the last of rose has mellowed, And faded with decay, And the warmth has fled in silence, Borne off in cold dismay, I’ll see your silhouette, underneath the...