remembering

sometimes my mind grabs for you, trying to remember, trying to believe that you were real, that you were ever here with me in flesh and bone and blood. and when i get still and quiet and think about you I see your eyes, big and dark with heavy eye makeup that made you look … More remembering

On being a writer

i read somewhere that you know you’re a writer if you can’t help but write. If you must write, then you know you are among those word-crafters, those story-spinners, those who take us somewhere other than ourselves into a world of beauty, pain, hope and sometimes grotesque horror and salvation. You know you’re a writer … More On being a writer