The ghosts of you remain. Little half-used jars of goop. Shampoo bottles with masking tape tops-a sure sign of too… Read more When you burn down the bridge, there’s no water under it.
Tag: prose poem
Snippets of a One-Sided Conversation
Yes, but she didn’t want it. She didn’t say she didn’t want it. But she didn’t say many things. She… Read more Snippets of a One-Sided Conversation
Teen Angst
“Is it okay if my uncle sleeps with me?” she asked instead of a question about algebra. “I want to… Read more Teen Angst
Sandwiched
As Tweeted: Dinner was quiet. She sat sandwiched between Love and Hate. Love was sleepy, practically falling asleep in his… Read more Sandwiched