Wet Grass
It smelled like the grass after rain. That’s what she noticed first. It reminded her of running through the pouring rain with her family, one lap around the house, as a sort of impromptu tradition. It managed to stick for years each time it rained or snowed. The memory should…
Stress Poems
Isn’t there anything you can’t do? Sometimes compared to you My insignificance becomes too much to bear. It’s like pulling each strand of hair Out, piece by piece. Like tearing your teeth from their roots And having nothing to put them in but old boots. So that each time you…
Good Enough
Aris stood in front of the mirror. She did not do this often, nor did she much enjoy doing it now. But her wounds would only get worse if she didn’t treat them. Going to a doctor was a definite ‘no’ at this point. With the amount of blood on…