~ Most days, she feels so lost, that you would think there was once a time when she belonged to someone, that she had accidentally been...

~ Sometimes, I imagine I'm some mourning starlet who sings Lana Del Rey at the club every Saturday night. A honeyed halo of stage light...

~ Inspired by Judy Blume,  inside Jokes with Liz and the poetry of Alissa Grams (https://alissagrams.wordpress.com/2017/03/06/an-open-let...

~ Among the wreckage of her soul, lie shards of ribcage (splintered like the stern of a ship that has weathered many a beastly storm) and...

~ From the moment the tale of her ruin made itself known, mankind has coveted proof of her existence. Many a curious hand has stalked...

~ I always look my most beautiful when I cry; the bags under my eyes burn as poignantly as waning crescents, lips plump as they quiver...

~ No boy will ever want to fuck me if I forget to put on makeup in the mornings lips red as Eve's forbidden fruit succulent enough to...

The green light has frozen over. See that haunted house, how its windows flicker desperately in their attempt at survival, how every...

~ Heart skips like a warped record, trembles over scarred vinyl until "I love you" tastes incomplete: (I) love ...

~ I imagine you throbbing inside of me like a heaving serpent, your venom seductively lethal. {detach} I say your name; scream your name;...

~ By my standards, he is a ten. I'm sure you're laughing right now-- "ooohhhh, she think's he's a ten"-- but that's not what I mean. What...

~ I take a pill each morning-- "to keep the madness away," declared the doctor, her tone clinically nonchalant as she handed to me a...

~ ⚠Trigger Warning; the following poem contains subject matter pertaining to self-harm ⚠ ~ In memory of him? her? I do not know. ~ In the...

~ ⚠Trigger Warning; the following poem contains subject matter pertaining to self-harm and suicide ⚠ ~ The envelope (delivered just this...

~ VI. I, Ophelia {The Drowning} It was her-- Flower Child. Weeping woman. Crazed Ophelia-- who taught me that the drowning is in the...

~ V. Ethereal Maybe being drunk is the closest I will ever get to zero gravity-- to walking on the moon. My fingers curled around the...

~ When I am sad, I find myself desperately sifting through the words of Sylvia Plath. And I guess it’s really quite funny (in an awful...

~ Her desire was painted green. The same colour of her pills and the gemstone she was named after, his eyes or the light at the end of...

~ The night breathes down the back of my neck in tendrils of air that smell of Mexican cigars and something like copper (something like...

~ Once upon a time, I would have called myself a storyteller. But today, I no longer convene–at least, not on a relatively frequent...