Fractal Dreams

Our dreams are not linear.

We live terrible lives in the dark of night.

As the brakes screech over and over. I see you sitting next to me.

As the glass breaks over and over. I hear you telling me goodbye.

These soft sheets yield dark lives in the terrible of night.

Golden honey sticks and butterfly wings.

Fractals of the truth.

Another knife digs into my abdomen. I hear you whisper goodbye.

Another tube goes down my throat. I see you sitting next to me.

Just a peak of light slowly creeps into the muscles of my mind.

As I begin to wake,

the wings flap one last time.



My Heroes 

I am a thief. 

I have spent my life stealing from the women around me and from the women who came before me

I have stolen pieces of their souls 

Their confidence

Their beauty 

Their grace

I have patched it over my own holes and filled myself with new strength

I have allowed these women to raise me higher

They are my heroes 

They are my namesakes

Their very spirit intertwines with mine and I am me because of it.


January 27, 2017 (Divided)

Where I see hate, they see hope.

Where I see misogyny and xenophobia, they see the return of traditional American values.

Where I see an administration that is thriving on fear and misinformation, they see the end of a crooked Washington.

How can our differences be so stark?

I know the human experience is varied, but we are all living in the same country.

How has our America become so divided, again?

Whether we want to admit it or not, we are in the midst of a civil war.

Instead of swords and muskets, we are armed with Twitter and Facebook, and we take no mercy.