Selected Poems


TMI//Overshare

“Wow, that’s disgusting.”
You’re either joking or sincere,
Looking at me with a weird shift,
Not prepared for the spewing.

In some cases, it’s figurative.
Sex stories, gossip, weird thoughts.
The kind of didn’t need to know that
That I assure you was necessary.

During other times, it’s literal.
Vomit or diarrhea, neither is inviting
As you see the effects of my illness
And questions the limits of love.

Pick Pocket

Amongst all of my works, there is no true original.

Houses built off of other’s words are demolished
so that I may piece it together for shelter from the world.

Feelings beautifully weaved are snipped by my scissors
and sewn back into a quilt to warm my heart.

The stale food for thought is stolen and added
to my pantry in case I ever need to chew on something.