Category: My Poetry

  • small talk

    i hate the serious conversations. the expression of feelings  dew starts to collect within the corner of my eyes  a lump that grows in my throat  jaw clenched so tight it must be pried open why speak…when rather i could hide. i hate growing up. Read more

  • A Boy That’s A Friend

    You were never really my “boyfriend.”  We were never official, but I saw you every week. We painted rocks, did puzzles, kept each other company on slow nights at work…kissed me after I told you that I loved you.  Sometimes I wonder if I ever truly loved you or were you just great with your… Read more