-
Let me tell you about this weird thing that happened last weekend. I made a sign. Well, “made” is a generous word for what actually happened. I had an idea, some supplies, and a limited amount of time. I used black paint to repurpose a canvas I’d painted on. One layer of black paint. I…
-
The Woman on the Stage On burlesque, body image, and wondering what other women see when they look at you. I didn’t feel sexy. Let’s get that out of the way first. I was on my period. I was bloated. I was aching. I was hurting. Sexy was pretty much the last word I would…
-
I hate cooking. I don’t know how to sew. I’m also a tad on the messy side. Guilty. My mom tried desperately to domesticate me, but I resisted tooth and nail. With the force of a thousand suns. Oh yes. I remember in high school (I was homeschooled), my mom gave me a sewing project…
-
Which relationship has taught you the most about yourself? View all responses There’s a cannabis store that I frequent near my work. Legal marijuana, which is a whole other story I could write about, and probably someday will. The sheer fact that I can walk my happy ass into a public store, perfectly legal, perfectly…
-
“Can I come over looking ugly?” That’s what I asked my best friend, Dejai. Not ugly, ugly. Not the kind that needs an apology or a warning label. I wasn’t a biohazard, by any means. It’s the ugly that happens when you’re struggling to take care of yourself. Where your hair is unwashed and doing…
-
I feelthe way you watchmy mouth moveas you lean closer,until my lipsalmost brushyour ear.
-
My Dad was a Vietnam veteran. He was drafted. Served two tours. Rear door gunner in the 101st Airborne. There were things you learned quickly to love a man who has seen war. A man who had the Grim Reaper on his right arm. A man whose cold stare would give you chills. I always…
-
It’s an empty feeling,having no one left to disappoint,or to disappoint me.
-
A big, toothy showgirl smile while my jaw clenches,and my throat burns like fire and ice.What you see and what I feel.What I am, and what you want me to be.
-
It’s roughly midnight on a Saturday night. Half of us are in our underwear. Sweaty. Disheveled. Clothes are scattered across the floor like an orgy-tornado passed through.My body hasn’t gotten the message that it’s over yet.I’m on fire. Buzzing. Tingling.I can still hear the applause, the laughter, the callbacks.How alive can one person feel?And when…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
