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Nobody Asks How You Are
Nobody asks how you are Because you checked in with your stories, you’re alive And your skin is glowing you must be fine and that last post of yours dope, fire, kiss, and hearts You smile a lot to be insane You’re in good shape Your limbs are moving Can’t be your strength Forget the validity of your struggles others have got it worse but thank your god you managed a week full week, now rejoice Work meetings Leisure travels People judging Razzle-dazzle But nobody asks you how you are when you barely managed a phone call before you choked When sleeping is a mystery to be solved When you…
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The Nerve (Excerpt)
Let me know when you’re done pretending that in your mind there was no plan that I was blindsided, kept tightly in the dark until it all made sense for your selfish little heart and my hips you no longer needed to climb. I’ll spare my pettiness, I say, but why should I? when I have the right to be an authoritarian about who and what makes me cry. You mouth that I don’t deserve it, while your actions say otherwise. The nerve! I screamed inside as your callousness amplified. Again and again, ’til the end of time, your character’s proven to be as feeble as humankind. I should’ve known…what…
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Your Own Rhythm
Sit down and write even when you have nothing to whine about, they say. But it’s hard. Especially, after some time apart from your vibe, that which makes your talent shine; that which tells you how bomb you are; that which motivates and inspires you to be the brightest star, someone’s best advice. It can be hard. Why do I always end up with rhymes? Ahh, that poetic life… A writer’s life is all about stories, visuals, someone else’s life. Picking stories from the doctor’s visit, the grocery store, the car wash, a baseball game, the bar… One has to get involved, be social, cross oceans, and actually live life,…
