take down the fences
then give her the key so she

Sometimes I feel really far behind in life. I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up, mostly because I didn’t think I’d make it to thirty.

how to behave:
rip the hem of your dress

all the years you spent crying repent
love the sinner, not the sin

dear me from two years ago,
I need you to be brave

watching the yeast explode in the bowl like I’ve been doing since I was eight years old; crescent rolls and pizza dough mostly

We were always just friends, ever since those golden state days. I’ve known you almost as long as I’ve known myself and for some reason,

I wish I could tell you a hundred love stories with a hundred happy endings. But all I have is the truth.

My first favorite poet was Shel Silverstein. Then it was Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Frost, Emily Dickenson, E.E. Cummings, Mary Oliver, Pablo Neruda, Charles Bukowski—you know, the usual.

I am a parent. a mother they say. but I don’t feel that way because I was raised with parents who

People always ask me how I got into writing. But the thing is, I’ve always been a writer. Or maybe just someone who has always been around words – a storyteller at the very least.

I want to marry you in yellow. white has never been my color anyway