face down in bed sheets and chucks changed as he can’t hold enough air to eat or walk or sleep but just stare into space. his daughters framed by iPad weeping his bed frame rails up to keep him from falling his future framed by breaths left as he says his goodbyes while he can …
The bed alarm sounded at 2 AM And there she stood upon the stool Dusting the place above Where the pillows are kept Where the motes have gathered Unremembered Except by the old woman Whose family is frightened By what she cannot remember We clamor in whispers As not to wake the others But she …
This watercolor and charcoal drawing is an ultrasound depiction at 18 weeks
Scuttle into the dimly lit room. Quiet save for the whisper of her shallow breaths. Eyes catch glistenings scattered across the hospital room walls. A dozen lines of oil smeared into stout crosses shimmering in the faint light. No one has come to visit, remnant from the previous tenant. Were they left in final farewell? …
Do You Really Need to Spiral Right Now? A Quick Self Check-In Guide Go in order. No skipping or cheating. Just pick what’s closest to your current state and analyze if you really need to be spiraling out of control right now. 1. Has today been particularly bad? Yes, it’s been awful. Fair enough. Go …
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Bacteria settled onto the valves of your heart It sat there and grew over time The textbooks tell me It might have something to do with your dental procedure But you sit here in front of me with your son and husband Smiling, joking, worrying, reading, watching, living It doesn’t really makes sense “The bacteria …
Sink toward the door day-weary and full of the eyes and pains of 15-minute acquaintances whose real questions I couldn’t answer. Shoes off Phone down Backpack off (not for long) Sink toward the piano weak against the gravity of the familiar, safe black Black wood Black keys Black space—with stars Familiar, predictable, wild beauty from …
Call upon the augur to tell the man if he should stay or go Pluck the feathers and see if in the steam from strewn entrails weave roads that lead away from home If after pricking, the trickling blood wends anew in the cobblestones a thumping pulse What think we of the haruspex? The soothsayers …
She gardened bald, trimming the dying lavender to grow back for the living. Planning beauty for the future that wasn’t hers and she knew it.
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