classic cold

I am calm in my body
I listen to my body
I stay low
I stay quiet
I drink a lot of tea
I do not drink caffeine 
I take a lot of honey
I nap
I read my book
I nap some more
I sneeze
I cough
I sneeze again
I cough again
I take a Covid test
I do not have Covid 
I feel a change in my body
I feel my nose is stuffy
I notice my voice is raspy 
I do not like talking
I breathe
I meditate 
I stay quiet
I wear a mask in public
I hydrate
I hydrate
I hydrate
I nap
I drink more tea
I take DayQuil 
I take NyQuil 
I take another Covid test
I do not have Covid
I have a classic cold
I sneeze
I cough
I am slowly recovering 

misty rain on saturday

When you enter a place of stillness, you awaken the divinity within you.

Peggy Sealfon
hiding from the chill
of early september
under the 
pile of blankets
in my bed
fuzzy socks on
my cold feet
I reread a book
I first read
in college
misty rain on saturday
cozy day inside
my body is still
my mind is full

Read my piece On Turning 29

thoughts of now

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.

Sylvia Plath
smell of fresh rain
sound of fans turning
late afternoon naps
sweaters and tea first thing in the morning
dogs going crazy all the time
drives with scenic views
hips hurting from standing
one conversation on repeat
different shades of the same color
people who don't think
people who overthink
memoir about a child star
rereading fiction
repeating affirmations
oil calming my anxiety
vibrant green leaves have faded
on the tree outside my window

10:23 pm

my window is closed
I can hear the cicadas
chirping loudly tonight
drowning out the usual
quiet of august evenings,
the rain this afternoon
startled the whole house
the dog ran from the bathroom
to the closet nonstop
for thirty minutes like
a spy trying to hide
darting from one 
dark space to the other,
my heart skipped a beat
during the brief moments
where I felt the house
sway out of place,
soon a night storm
will patter on the roof
as I fall asleep.

end of june blues

the end of pride month
grief lingers heavy
in the summer air
I cannot properly put 
into words how I am feeling
still in the midst of processing
the weight of the fact that women 
in this country are not allowed to
choose what's best for their bodies


my body aches in places I don't usually feel
in trying to adjust for my ankle to heal,
I become aware of the toll my body takes
in the process.

my shins get the brunt of bruising,
trying to sit while working leads to
bumping into shelves and solid structures
finding comfort for my left side causes
a trail of marks on my right side.

my hips hurt from leaning on one side,
making sure the swelling isn't bad is
fills me with worry and panic. I call people
by their wrong names and repeat
myself over and over, my thoughts have succumbed
to the worst case scenario.

I listen to my ankle, I ice, elevate, and take
ibuprofen as needed. It doesn't swell or bruise
like I feared. It slowly heals on the days
I can rest on the couch or in my bed.

in these moments, I am reminded I am not
in control and I still have a lot to learn.


a state of awareness brought on by breathing

my skin is red from the heat of this bath
I massage my neck with my finger tips
and slip into nothingness, happy

I watch my thoughts drift away
I move the water around me
I breathe in through my belly
I hold my breath
I release the air out gently

when life around me becomes too crazy,
no time to breathe or think or talk,
I try to remember to be aware of 
how I'm feeling before overwhelm
swallows me whole


How many kids have to die in school
in order for change to happen?

I am tired of seeing the same news cycle
trying to in-act some type of change
but nothing works.

Nothing works. Why? 

Why do these events keep
occurring and we're left hopeless?

Why do parents keep on 
losing their kids this way?

Why must drills be put in place
that don't work?

I am tired of hoping for change
that doesn't come.

I feel hopeless against the people
who have the power to change things.

I am tired of seeing people
protesting for those who lost
their lives on my Twitter.

Because nothing happens.
Nothing changes.

Our voices are loud but
they only hear mumbles.

How many kids have to die in school
in order for change to happen?