Mother’s Death Senior Care Of Corpus, Corpus Christi, Texas Saturday, September 26, 2020   one weird Saturday something seemed way out of place how could I have known   last

In your bed, pretending to sleep, secretly counting fan blades like flower petals, wondering He loves me, He loves me not, He loves me. Thank god there are five.  

after Bianca Phipps It is the eve of my thirtieth birthday. Tangled, I feel myself floating above my body. If it weren’t for my birthday. Blue is the warmest color

I remember dressing up as Salvador Dali for a Carnival parade at school somewhere between 2009 and the end of my teenage years.   My young face, rounder than it

Grief is the silence that burdens the sound — one house, two homes two minds, the bones of all that hurts and remains.   The moon is hung with echoes