From My Voice

Just Exactly Dead

I wish my point of view didn’t exist. Don’t want to be human, don’t want to sweat the small stuff, but when I do, I know an inner-explosion is about to occur. That being fed up thing. I used to point fingers forward, I trace all fingers back to me. I listened to the heartbeat…

The Spiders Aren’t Here Anymore

I was in the shower. It was moving. Well, I thought it was moving. It was just a black speck on the shower curtain. The thing about your life story is its never just your story. I sincerely hate that part. The other players in the story may not want anyone else to know but…

Berry Tree Days

I thought of you yesterday. There were berries. Wild berries. I thought of us eating the berries and climbing the trees. I thought of us going through the woods. The way that we would fight over who would get to climb which tree. The way that I would miss you when we would fight. I…

His Yellow Shirt

This is a spoken word/poetic story that was also performed at The Moth in L.A. on Valentine’s Day in 2017.  This writing expresses the depths of my feelings towards divorce and along with that my questioning religion. “He was wearing that yellow shirt. His eyes sparkled.”