Creative nonfiction

Untitled Ninety-eight

Didn’t mean to– and no this isn’t a sorry. I wasn’t trying to come off like that, rude. I–It’s just, connecting is really hard, especially when you feel alone. I didn’t stop trying though, maybe not hard enough. See, I use to think I was afraid of connecting to people, now I’m just scared of them […]


America the Forsake

I’m scared for my country. It belongs to rough pale masculine hands breed to pillage and take with straightforward tongue, twisted dominance. Its leaders reflect that of a parent to a child. Showing pain cloaked and ready for war. Let this country mirror the fool or the devil who acts like a saint!