“Twenty-six letters, infinite stories to tell, nothing comes to mind.”

This little black dress doesn’t hide imperfections. It shows off my soul.

Old habits die hard, so fill up my cup and let’s raise hell in heaven.

All smoke and mirrors, nothing concrete or real -Social Media

Consumed by darkness but drenched in warm morning sun. Life’s oxymoron.

Like water lies spill from my lips. Droplets of poison ready to kill.

Your body ebbs, flows, ripples, and glows like water. Don’t fear changing tides.

Vanilla ice cream melts down my wrist as my lips melt all over yours.

Shadows follow me the way a vulture stalks death. One small step ahead.

Double chin, Fat Thighs. Will you think about these things before your last breath?

Talk dirty to me like I’m a nun on her knees screaming hail Mary.

I wish the voices would pour from every orifice. Bleed from my bones and drain me of this illness.

Life gave me lemons, tequila, salt, and a knife. Death, you call the shots.

She was a siren, mythical and mystical but somehow still real.

I grab my skin, soft like play dough, and wish my nails could cut like scissors.

Every freckle, mole, dimple, and scar, shine bright in my body’s constellation of stars.

Sticks and stones break bones but words ferment like poison. A slow, painful death.

Words become trapped in your mind if you don’t free them. Write them down, speak them, share.

Marriage is something you have to give your whole mind to.

I do have that mindset – that most good art comes from some turmoil, from someone trying to come to some equilibrium, or come up and get a breath.

I must make up my mind which is right – society or I.

Before I write down one word, I have to have the character in my mind through and through. I must penetrate into the last wrinkle of his soul.

“Language Arts Dept.” is the English office; “literature based on child’s reading level and experiential background” means that’s all they’ve got in the Book Room; “non-academic-minded” is a delinquent; and “It has come to my attention” means you’re in trouble.

A fight of a thousand years – the smart mind and the hopeful heart.

To live is – to war with trolls In the holds of the heart and mind