• child holding hand of aging person
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    She caches her jewelry Cardboard tubes under her mattress Hidden from faces she can’t remember Haunting her with changed bedsheets While disembodied voices perched on telephone wires Check on her She gripes They’re stealing my things At the liar: Voice too old to be her daughter Sunday – no – Wednesday No How can it ...
  • 872
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    This tripod has been around. The box was dusty, shoved in a corner of the attic. Three legs. At least there used to be. I see the joints where repairs were made. The first leg is wooden but the break is new. The break is clean; smooth to the touch. No splinters prick my fingers. ...
  • family
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    Grief is a part of life that I had never experienced in depth before. Two weeks ago, my grandmother passed away, and I still find myself trying to search for a normal that doesn’t seem to exist anymore. Writing has always been a passion. I might not always have something to say, and a lot ...