Cowritten in collaboration with Melissa Fate is nothing if not unpredictable. Chaos is the stable ground beneath your feet. I don’t know what I expected. We coexisted in two-dimensional space, across miles in words with no depth or volume, living the memories of other people’s stories. But we exist in a three-dimensional world. Even those… Continue reading String Theory and Stardust
Write about the wolf, about your colors shifting, about demons and demigods and the other strange things that are more common in your life than you want to admit. Write about shifting, and shapeshifting, and feeling the stirring behind your eyes that people see but rarely recognize, something feral, something free, something unbound to skin… Continue reading Write Everything
CW: references to addiction and drug use Leaning up against the car, the damp scent of new dawn permeating the air. I close my eyes, grasping a cup of coffee and remembering mornings in gas station parking lots, the condensation of my breath mixed with smoke, the shape of a styrofoam cup, the scent of… Continue reading Ceramic Moments
The fire came back, and I can feel it tensing in my bones, running ripples down my spine. I need to burn, to feel the edge of pain pressing against a threshold, to breathe into it and through it, to know that fear and burn through to acceptance. It’s potent, visceral; I can burn anywhere… Continue reading The Fire Came Back
I get on these music kicks sometimes. It’s usually some ridiculous pop-esque song that’s annoyingly catchy and not really representative of how I live my life, but tangentially hits on something that resonates deeply within me. Past incarnations of this have included The Killers, “When You Were Young,” (we’re burning down the highway skyline on… Continue reading If This Were Chess, Would We Ever Reach Checkmate?
The payment screen on the metro card machine instructs me to dip my ATM card. Dip, like a child testing the temperature of water with their foot, invoking a deceptive smoothness to the instruction. My movements are anything but fluid and gentle. I shift my oversized camping backpack awkwardly, trying to reach for my wallet… Continue reading Lying to a Junkie
Prelude: The bathroom, January, 2015 My partner and I smoke in the bathroom during the winter. There are tricks to keeping the stale scent under control, but after a few weeks, we stop blowing smoke through the dryer filter and don't care whether the shower is on or not, and the towel is only haphazardly… Continue reading Unclench