survival
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There are two of us living beneath my skin. He arrived first to every war. She stayed behind to rememberwhat we were fighting for. He is iron beneath the tongue,the locked jaw,the hand that does not shakeeven when the rest of the world is burning. He learned strength without boundaries. So he became very goodat…
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The road had no name, which was probably why she trusted it. Named things came with expectations. Destinations. Promises. Graves. She had learned enough about all four. She left before sunrise with one bag, half a tank of gas, and nothing in the back seat worth turning around for. For the first hundred miles, she…
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The knock came before sunrise. Three slow strikes against the door. Not desperate. Official. The woman inside was already awake. She had been sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of something that had gone cold hours ago, listening to the wind scrape branches against the roof. The knock came again. She did not…
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People no longer cease to amaze me in the worst way possible. Maybe that sounds cynical. It probably is. But cynicism is merely optimism after it has been mugged in a dark alley enough times to recognize the footsteps behind it. There are very few people left who aren’t looking out for themselves first. I…
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There comes a point where you get tired of cleaning up messes that were never yours. You look down at your hands and realize the red isn’t from your own wounds. It’s from standing too close to people who never learned how to stop bleeding on others. And instead of asking who cut them, you…
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They never asked where you came from. They walked into your abyss blind, as if it were their right to wander through a cathedral of shadows they could never comprehend. They claim to know you—your face, your laugh, your surface—but to know you truly, would they not first need the story of how you got…
