personal life

He told me that he loved my hair.

How it felt against his cheek, lingering fragrance left on his shoulder, proof of my abandon. How it made a soft, …
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August 2012

I’m sitting on the edge of my bed ready to burst into a mountain of tears. I leave for Miami in only a few days and I’m …
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It was my fourth time running to the bathroom to regurgitate everything I ate earlier that day. As I laid in my bathroom and prayed to the porcelain god I …
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I’m marking my territory. Right here on this page. Because I want you to know that I am an artist and I’m sensitive about my ish. Yes, I’m a complex, …
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Evening train ride home. Body swaying, music playing and then it hits me:

I’ve become comfortable with being single. Like, maybe too comfortable.

Not that it’s a bad thing seeing …
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Caribbean, Summer 1999. Dear Journal,

There her hand lay, directly cupped under mine. Limp and brittle designed with intricate detail formed by veins and her skin’s lack of elasticity. …
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