Rigid

My bones feel rigid like I’m living with rigor mortis, depression’s equivalent of arthritis. There’s nothing the doctor can prescribe; sunshine cannot be packaged and nor can your smile so I guess I’ll just wait in my heaviness. This opaque silence where nothing can relieve the nothingness I feel whenever you leave.     © … Continue reading Rigid

Here

We were star-crossed and then committed. We were children and then adults dressed in ill fitting clothes and promises. We were in love always away from home and I soon learned affection of this ilk was unsustainable because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to love you in every other place except here. © Kristiana … Continue reading Here

Whirligig

I used to believe in abracadabra magic; white rabbits from hats, ribbons from shirt sleeves, coins from behind my ear, children’s party make believe; dragons and princesses, tall towers and treehouses, and the way the wind blows whispers when you are small and slight with dreams dripping on your brow and in the crooks of … Continue reading Whirligig