Don’t Look

He’s back at work

After a few weeks off.


You know the story,

The horror he witnessed.


You know his best friend

Showed up at his house


To find him picking

Up the remains of her skull.


If you look to closely,

You know what you’ll see.


A hollowness? An emptiness?

A void no one can fills?


So you don’t look.

You carry on.


“Have a good night.”

“Hey, you too.”


Special People: My Best Friend

Hey all! Welcome to the first installment in my Special People series!

This person’s first appearance in my life was not worthy of much attention. We were crammed into the same math class, and I didn’t even know he really existed for the first couple months of school because he sat on the other side of the room. It wasn’t until a mutual friend dragged shy, freshman me to their group that I was introduced to him. Even then, I spent the first few weeks near him and my other new friends in my own little world, trying true to the reclusive, former-homeschooler stereotype.

Little did I know, his raunchy humor, unharnessed desire to do whatever the hell he wanted, and stupidly-lovely blue eyes would lead me to catch an awful disease that many of my peers knew as “feelings.” The result of this hideous disease was a typical first-boyfriend, high school-relationship story, the details of which I will not inflict on you.

After the inevitable end, we rarely hung out with one another. Sophomore year, we shared lunch periods and tables, friends, and words, but we merely existed in the same physical space rather than being friends in any true sense of the word.

Rather than wallowing in the details of that sad year, let’s skip ahead to the third year of our acquaintance. We slowly grew closer. I saw some warmth that he rarely showed, hiding within. This warmth compelled me to let go of past pain, and he realized that being friends with me could be a pretty great idea. We picked up some inside jokes, and actually shared the same space instead of merely allowing our existences to overlap. This friendship grew into our senior year as we spent many of the graduation activities together. We even got our caricature drawn together at our Project Grad.

These memories are what kept our friendship alive through the first couple years after we left high school. College, relationships, and life’s troubles kept us from seeing or speaking with one another often, but after those first years, we found ourselves growing close again. Texting more, hanging out with friends, sharing advice and sass during the rough times, and simply being friends brought us closer together. It was around this time I realized that I had been blessed to have him in my life.

Yes, his life was a mess. His car was an unreliable hunk of metal, his employment history was tumultuous, college hadn’t panned out, and he had yet to recover from a relationship that had drained something unidentifiable, yet unbelievably important from him; he was more broken than together. Despite the awful state he was in, I still recognized the same warmth that had compelled me to grow close to him after that first heartbreak in high school. As months passed, we grew closer. I dragged him outdoors, away from the miserable nest that health issues, work issues, and girlfriend issues had left him in. I made him hang out with my friends. I saw that warmth, and I decided that I was going to everything possible to keep it from drowning in whatever misery life threw at him.

In return, he was there for me. He repeatedly told me, despite the protests from my pitiful self-loathing, that I deserved more than the lies and excuses my then-boyfriend gave me. He was one of the people that drove over an hour to help me move after I broke up with that creepy, lying ex. He became a much-needed support as I stumbled through my last two years of college, another relationship, and all the stress in between. Even when significant others, the same factor that had kept us isolated before, were in the picture, we were close. It was when I realized that not even relationships could draw our attention away from providing support that the other needed that I also realized I had found one of the best friends I will ever have.

I may only have been around for a couple of decades, but I have learned to appreciate those people that come into your life and stick like gum in long hair. There is something comforting about knowing someone has stayed with you through tears, anger, and heartbreak. There is something nostalgic about having seen that same person gone from a 14-year-old, lost boy who couldn’t bring himself to behave responsibly (he knows it, too) to a semi-functional adult; a semi-functional adult who’s blue eyes glisten when he tells a joke, who’s beard scratching my neck during a comforting hug is familiar, and who has grown immensely much as a person. Seeing the growth this man has gone through makes me proud to be his best friend and to have grown alongside him all these years.

Over the years this special person has become my spine when I avoid standing up for myself, my closest confidant, my best “bad decision,” my chief comfort in times of anxiety or sadness, and my favorite partner in crime. Words cannot adequately capture how important this person is to me, all he has done for me, or how wonderful he truly is beneath the brash exterior. All I can say is that he is my best friend.

Happy birthday, my best friend.


A New Year and a New Announcement

Hello to my dearest readers!

I know this is a couple of weeks late into the new year, but I wanted to post it anyway.

It’s hard to believe that I have had this blog for two years now. I may not be a super famous blogger, but having this platform to post my creative work and rambling thoughts has been a blessing to me. There is just something about clicking that “publish” button that makes me feel a little more like the writer I long to be.

I know that I have not posted very much since last year when I decided to break away from my weekly posts, but I am hoping to change that this year. I probably won’t go back to posting every single week on a set day because I was beginning to feel like I was forcing my writing more than I like to, but I am going to try to post semi-regularly this year, if only to show you all that I’m still alive.

Now, about that announcement…

It isn’t anything fancy or life-changing, but I did want to give my readers a heads up about a new writing series that I will be working on over the course of this year. This series, tentatively called “Special People,” will feature a collection of pieces describing my dearest friends. Each friend’s ‘chapter,’ as I have taken to calling them, will be posted for that individual’s birthday.

This idea stemmed from a combination of friends who adore cheesy writing and a social media post that was shared around the net a while ago. This post brought up the idea that many people would love to see how an author would portray them in writing. I might not be a super awesome published writer or anything, but I figured that my closest friends would love a cheesy chapter about them, how they came into my life, and what they mean to me!

With that said, keep an eye out on this blog for chapters being posted periodically through the year (sprinkled within my usual dusting of poems and commentaries). Most of the friends I will be writing about have birthdays in the spring and summer, so you will see these posts around those times. However, the first birthday post should be up sometime this month!

Thank you all for sticking with this blog as I fumble through literary self-discovery. I hope you all have a bright and adventurous 2018!

My Selfish Christmas

Christmas is, for me, a time of gift-giving and love. While I could care less if I receive any gifts, I spend months planning just the right gifts for those dearest to me. I spend more money than I should trying to obtain just the right object to show my people how much they mean to me.

The thing is, I think I go through all the stress of Christmas, not for my loved ones, but for my selfish self. The truth is, they know I love them. They know I draw strength from their kind words and caring banter. They don't need gifts to tell them everything a simple hug could.

However, I need to give these gifts to make myself feel good. Every year, I spend countless hours and dollars obsessing over Christmas for my people. I kneel on hard floors as my back grows tight and paper cuts obscure the edges of my knuckles.

But as each present is wrapped, tagged, bowed, and added to pile, I remind myself of all the joy, love, and support that person has brought to my life over the past year and all years prior. I'm reminded of how lucky I am to have such a wonderful person in my life.

Please take a moment amidst all the holiday stress to truly remember those who mean the most to you, whether that is one person or a dozen, a little child or a wise mentor. When the holidays fade for the challenges of the coming year, their love will continue without end.

Guitar Store

It was just a moment
With two eyes,
Storm blue
And laughing
As they met my own.

It was just a moment
With a leather jacket
Covering all but
Familiar hands,
Strumming away.

It was just a moment,
Standing in the corner,
Out of the way,
Seeing an old friend
In an unfamiliar light.

No picture since I’m on my iPad because the power is out here, but that doesn’t mean I’m not writing! With a mobile hotspot (and an acceptance that I’m going to be paying extra for data once the projected 1-2 weeks without power is up), anything is possible!

Tonight, I Cry

­I used to cry at night

For pains not easily forgotten.

I used to lie awake and let my agonies

Trail down my cheeks like soothing rivers.

I used to carve my miseries

Into lined pages with a brightly-colored pen.


I used to cry for the empty spaces

Left by goodbyes.

I used to let tears flow

And wash away a boy’s unwanted touch.

I used to whisper the same awful words to myself

That had been left in my memory by another’s voice.


I used to cry for the mysterious pain

That emerged as the darkness whispered.

I used to wonder how anyone could survive

When bridges, knives, and winding roads existed.

I used to consider all of those smiling faces

And sob because I didn’t belong with them.


Tonight, I pine for the evils of the world

That I knew would never heal.

Tonight, I ache for those who bleed

At the mercy of forces they cannot stop.

Tonight, I cry because somewhere, I know

My student cries the same.