The tide rose without her noticing. She is drowning. In an ocean of voices. Their clashing rhythms crashes over her. Deep. High. Fast. Slow. She imagines a bubble, like a deep-sea diver’s helmet, set squarely upon her broad shoulders. Meant to keep the voices out. To keep her thoughts her own. Her own. The voices

Bustin’ Walls on My Way to No

Fear. It’s a big black wall—the holy mother of walls. Fear is viscous. It clings with tenacity. Like a leach, it attaches to my skin, then oozes into my pores. Doesn’t matter how many walls I bust through. Doesn’t matter how hard I shake. Like a recurring nightmare, fear lingers.   Meet fear’s children: Rejection

Bedtime Wishes

As you close your eyes to sleep this night, these simple wishes I leave with you… …that a puppy’s joy of life and passion to play live always inside your heart… …that, like a cat, you know you only deserve the best… …that you never stop believing in those things your eyes cannot see… …that


A tree stood alone in the field, limbs twisted, gnarled, barren of life. The sky cackled and spit, flashing blue-white as heavy black clouds hung close to the earth, rumbling in vibrating baritones. Inside the tree trunk an ancient owl closed its eyes. Seconds later— laser quick, razor sharp— lightning bolted, cleanly splitting the tree