Buddy The Squirrel
January 20, 2018
A Human Infinity
George Jameson Courville - Editor-in-Chief
November 9, 2017
April 9, 2017
The New Dichotomy
Two Sonnets for Michael Brown
Kind-of A Cinderella Story
Live Lit: That Time I Tried To Read A Personal Essay Out Loud in Front of Other People
Rain melting into the concrete
Pooling at the cracks, the broken parts.
Rain, seep into my skin
Pooling at my heart, my lungs, my bones, my broken parts.
Create a downpour within me, flush out
The dark shadows under my ribs and at the back of my skull,
Drown the greed and poison hiding behind my sternum and in
The sockets of my hips.
The fear of being let go, it itself clinging so tightly to the bones in my feet—
Pry it off, though gaspingly painful as it may be, then let it be
Washed away, tumbled against my shins and ankles, worn smooth.
Cracked open like an oyster and realizing at its core lies
Not fear, but a fierce love.
Let me recognize this love in every step and be
Cognizant of the incessant life that pulls at each bone,
Each joint and ligament, each part of me that may shelter
A demon—but realize that the demon wears spines,
And she herself has forgotten the softness it protects—
For what births fear but the most desperate of love?
Now let the sea rest, the saltiness of the sunk and dissolved pain,
Past sins now vulnerable and cradled, a sapidity at the back of my throat,
And self-forgiveness, let it settle and seep into my marrow, permeate my blood cells.
I breathe in, I breathe out. Let my respiration condensate, let the process begin
I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!
January 2018 (3)
November 2017 (1)
April 2017 (10)
December 2016 (12)
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October 2016 (24)
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