The Normalcy Of Veins
Many years ago, a trauma of flesh fell upon the lineage. Never once did it get cleaned. Never once did someone wash it. A wrap tied the wound, but it festered beneath that molding cloth.
Born To Be Possessed
On February 4, 2020, I attended a protest for the sexist, racist, homophobic, and transphobic pastor of Christ Church in Moscow, Idaho. Doug Wilson was hosting a talk at the University of Idaho, even though he could speak at his own school, and the talk was to be on…
A Small Group
In Portland, Oregon, my family sent me to a women’s small group. Depression’s hooks sank into me then. It accompanied me as a shadow, stalking my steps, grabbing at my ankles as I stumbled down the sidewalk. The small group leader’s house sat in the middle of a well-off neighborhood….
Happiness
1.14.21 There is a certain freedom in taking a breath. I do not always feel as if I inhale. The weight against my ribs can bear down upon me with such heaviness that my lungs seem only to gasp, to struggle, to choke. It limits oxygen to my mind,…
Sorlina
Once upon a time, we painted a treehouse. Together, in the backyard, we climbed up to it and wrote down magic spells, used fake names, and designed ourselves to be Purple Princesses. You had to convince me of this fact, as I was opposed to all things feminine, but once…