Sometimes I wish you’d eaten me in the womb. Those were the days: you and me, cell clumps swaddled in the darkness, learning to suckle at the meat that made us.

when your granddaughter is born / pink-lipped learning to smile / peony-bloom in her cheeks / laughing all sweetness at the end of a long night

At work I peer over my cubicle wall to chat at my coworker, and she clicks hurriedly away from the tab where she’s opened ChatGPT.

If I did this to myself, could you ever forgive me?

I think a lot about dead horses. In the last year they’ve become a fixation of mine.

I brought my cane that day, even though I could’ve walked unassisted. I expected to be given fifteen minutes, tops. I was terrified.

You swallow him whole, but that isn’t the end of it.

suppose they gave roses for suffering well: suppose it was better the less they could tell.

so i work at this university (christian) (in a job i’ve always wanted) (i told them a lot of things to get hired) (before you judge me, spend a month unemployed in the state of california)

Remember when you saw your first princess? Her skirts were tulle and glittered like the night sky. They fell about her feet so you’d never know she was walking — she was gliding, floating.

In friend circles I tend to refer to it as the "I'm Tired" disease, not because that really captures the half of it, but because it makes up 90% of my responses when my partner asks how I am.

Rian sobs until cracks form in her skin. Then the light comes through.