There are spiders hidden in your eyes
They come out when the weaknesses of others are caught in your web
Creeping closer, crawling along lines of lies
Swaddling others in false security
A quick strike of poison, venom hissed in the ear
Letting them feel the fear before you devour them
With teeth like dying pearls and eyes like blood-spattered roses
Alluring in the vibrancy of your lunacy


Why is it different?

The way we once were
Gone now to dulcet fleeting shadow
and heel-ground dust
The skin of our smiles
laid bare
thrown on the fire to warm our changed bodies
Frail husks grown used to the cold
In the way that eyes grow used to farewells.

Why is it different?

Interim Mumblings

I’m just a silhouette
A projection from your mind onto my broken bones
Daring dreams and distracting fantasies
Darker in mind and mouth than blue hue twilight
I call to you
But all you hear is shadow

Interim Mumblings

What I Did on My Summer Vacation


8 days. 1 rental car. 14 bookstores. And the will to do it.

Rule #1 of Vacation: If you see an indie bookstore, you must go inside.

Rule #2 of Vacation: If you go inside an indie bookstore, you must buy a book.


L O S   A N G E L E S,  CA

The Last Bookstore Walking in here felt like walking into the bookshop in The Never Ending Story. Magic, mysterious and quite possibly the Most Photographed Bookstore in America (as one of the booksellers said, “Shots of our store make up about 15% of everything on Flickr.”) I was sure I’d pull a book off a shelf and open up a secret passageway. Purchased: Used copies of cooking & house decorating books from the ’60s and ’70s.

Book Soup &Skylight Books

I visited both the Skylight Books annex and the store proper. The…

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What I Did on My Summer Vacation


She had blue hair
No eyebrows
Piercings everywhere
And I mean everywhere
She had lines down her arms
But she didn’t hide them
She announced them proudly, her own little banners
She waved them in the faces of the sneering crowds
Who dared to think they could judge her
She was immune to their poison, she’d already bled it out
And learned to love those who hated her
Because they had made her
An immobile rock
An immovable mountain
A crystal, grown beautiful in the darkness of her own mind.


New things

Sorry I haven’t posted anything in a while; I’ve been working on something big! I’ll get to that in a moment, but I wanted to give you guys a little update.

I’m taking summer classes and getting very emotionally invested in naps, so that’s monotonously fun. I’m also working at the zoo again, which is better than it was last year, but still not great. My orientation for uni is next week! I’m so nervous! I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m so spectacularly clueless about everything that I might mess up something important. We shall see.
I fell last week and scraped up my legs pretty badly. I looked like I’d been in a car crash! But it’s getting better! I’m not getting as many sympathetic looks, which makes me a lot more comfortable. I’m not the biggest fan of attention. That’s probably not a good thing.
I also went to a wedding! In South Dakota! Where it is warm! I got sunburned! It hurts! I also kissed a German man! I love the mountains! I’m using a lot of exclamation points because it’s late and I’ve been stuck in this car for sixteen hours! It was an overall great weekend!
Okay, now on to the big thing. I’ve been considering starting a blogging series. As in, a novel spread out across blogging entries. I am thinking of making it one chapter a week. What do you all think? Would you like to see some of my longer writing? I’m still working out kinks, so it will probably be a while, but I want to get some feedback before I launch such an endeavor. What do you think? Good idea? Or do you think I should stick with short poetry?

Also, what are your summer plans? What is your favorite kind of sea creature? What did you wish upon a star for when you were little?

New things

The Walking Dead

I want to believe in ghosts
Because if the dead walk,
That means you can come back to me;
Crawling on maggot-eaten stumps
That used to hold me close
And hiss through decaying lips
The words you used to whisper sweetly in my ear.
Your bony fingers will rise through my hair like the pinnacles around your tomb,
And drag me down finally to rest with you.

The Walking Dead