Love Story in Three Stanzas


He once drove five hours in the rain

He busted the tire and spilled the champagne

Her palms were cold and sweaty

Her skirt felt just too tight

But she got the job and she was ready

When he arrived there that night


She kissed him before he could make a sound

His hand opened up, the ring fell to the ground

Five years later, she’s made a list

Of potential boy and girl baby names

And when he walks in, she can’t resist

She tells him and smiles when he exclaims


“Oh I know – how about Ellie?”

He says, pulling her back to look at her belly

Ellie it was, and she was perfect

When 9 months later she came

And he thought to himself that it was worth it

Driving those five hours in the rain


Nice (I am not a dictionary definition)



The chameleon of a word, shedding connotations like a snake sheds his skin,

the word that haunts me, defines me, good and bad in the mouths of peers,

they let it slide out like warm butter

or spit it out bitterly, watching as it smacks me in the face, gross and wet


For the longest time, I presented my opinions in a way that made it seem like they weren’t mine,

like a waiter offering up a platter

Here you are, sir. I hope it’s to your liking.

I handed them over already cheapened, diminishing their value firsthand, a half-hearted sale of a used car that was my treasure but another man’s junk

I was never strong or firm.

I was scared.

Diplomatic. Reasonable. Polite. Timid. Self-Deprecating.


I let that word back me into a corner, definitions chained to my hands and a permanent marker smile drawn on my face.


I am not a dictionary definition.

I am nice but

I am not weak and

I am not boring and

I am not unimportant and I am allowed to have opinions and I am allowed to be sarcastic and I am allowed to be smart and if you are rude to me, then I am allowed to be rude back and I am allowed to kick your sorry little ass with the infinite number of comebacks I have invented and filed away for the future while I was busy being quiet and


I do not need your permission to be human.

I have every right to be infuriated and despondent and moody and thrilled and sometimes I go berserk and have dance parties in my room and

I don’t care if I’ve grown up in a society that teaches girls to deny compliments and to never celebrate their beauty or passion

for fear of being labeled conceited or full of themselves

Listen –

I AM full of myself.

Full of everything that makes me who I am.

Maybe it’s time I started wearing nice like a badge and not a noose.

I’m writing a letter to myself.

Dear Me,

I’ve decided that I love you.

Sorry I waited so long to tell you.

I Shall Love Him Always (An Ode To My Cat)


Oh! I spread my love like thick butter

Over words and chocolate and rain –

But it is my somnolent cat that holds my heart,

For reasons obscure and logic arcane.

He toys with my heart in his fluffy, puffy paws,

Hunts it down halls and catches it midair

 Commanding, compelling, adorably distinguished –

Mine is an infatuation beyond compare.

I mock his silly antics and his continuous confusion,

Yet for him I never lose respect

For I know that in our household hierarchy

He is the king – I merely a subject.

With an air of pretension and two eyes of pure gold,

He nonchalantly strides through the hallways

I stroke him and I kiss him and in him I confide

Oh! I shall love him always!

If I Were in Charge of The World

If I were in charge of the world
I’d ban seafood,
Long fingernails and also, twerking

If I were in charge of the world
There would be dancing in the street
Walking in the park
And singing in the rain

If I were in charge of the world
You wouldn’t have hate
You wouldn’t have lonely
You wouldn’t have suicides
Or homophobes

If I were in charge of the world

Books would be the new movies

Sixties clothes would be back in style

And people who cry and laugh and feel

And sometimes eat peanut butter excessively

Would still be allowed to be

In charge of the world

The Golden Divide

Have you ever seen

Where the sun

Melts into the sea?

Where liquid gold

Sizzles and sparks

A heavenly fantasy

The golden river

Twists through the land

Dividing it in half

One side is green and blue

Full of happiness

And laughs

The other is red and black

Full of fire

And despair

I marvel, full of wonder

At the people who

Survive there

Are they human?

I’m sure I wouldn’t know

For I don’t dare to cross the stream

If I do, I fear

Any hope for return

Will change to an empty dream

The Essence of Myself

Holding on tightly

Didn’t want to let go

Scared of the unknown

Of things I didn’t know

I try to come off smart

But I’m as blind as all the rest

Unable to see what’s in front of me

Just want to be the best

Ignorance of the obvious

I spin my tales of worry

Life stares me in the face

But I’m in too much of a hurry

There’s always a goal I have to reach

I’m always searching for happiness

Never shall I be satisfied

No matter how much I am blessed

But now and then, I take a moment

To look me in the eyes

Admire myself for once

All truth, no lies