Your words are balloons.

Small, rubber bags, inflated with air and then sealed at the neck. Empty.

Recent Posts

Words never used to stick so suddenly or surely to the inside of my cheek. Words would carry heavy in my mouth, careful not to spill...

Two pink lawn chairs. Graffiti: MLPK, sprayed on the side of an electrical box in bright blue. An overgrown front yard. A couple,...

I’m trying desperately to hold on, but it’s fading. I can’t put into words how much I wish it weren’t softening it’s hue against the...