It’s Official

I’m a writer. Not just in the sense of “this is who and what I am” but also in the sense that I HAVE BEEN PUBLISHED. There is a career trajectory, now.

Which. Exciting! But also scary. I haven’t heard back on the book, but I’ve had a piece of poetry published in ImageOutWrite Vol. 5, and a piece of my short fiction was just published by Torquere. The short story is part of the Harvest Moon anthology.

Getting here wasn’t easy. There were a lot of speed-bumps and obstacles along the way, and I know that this is just the beginning. I have to hope that my writing catches people’s attention, and that I can build a readership. I have to keep writing, even when my insecurities whisper that I can’t do this, that the publications I have only happened through luck, that I’m not actually that good. I have to keep telling the stories that make my heart sing, even when it would be easier to follow trends and convention.

But you know what? For right now, I’m just going to celebrate a little.

~

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

 

Poem: Breathing Holy

If this is the place
Where nothing is holy,
Then let’s make a space
To change that, utterly
Where sighs and love, and
Half-whispered words
Are all that’s required
To make the world turn;
Where the light behind eyelids
Is not nervous sensation,
But instead is known
As religious exclamation;
Where clasped hands
And a head on my breast
Can hear and feel more
Than the heart in my chest;
Where, in moments of silence,
(The breathing of breaths)
We can feel down to our souls
There’s more than we sense.
~

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

Poem: Wishing Impossible

I want my life to be more
Than pills and pains and injections,
Doctors and specialists,
Clinic after clinic and test upon test;
More than
Ruthlessly policing every sip and bite,
Charting and calculating
Every breath and thought

I want to know how it feels
To be healthy;
To have intact cells and an
Automated, regulated system;
To trust my body to
Function

I want to be unafraid
Of going blind,
Of rotting from the inside out,
Of going to bed at night

I want to be more
Than my disease
~

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

Poem: Dear Mum,

I need you,
Not you, actually,
But someone to fill the shoes
You stepped out of.
Someone to tell me it’ll be okay,
When the world turns dark and menacing;
Someone to offer guidance
When I’m lost and confused;
Somoene who will be there,
No matter what.
I’m lucky, in that I have people who love me,
Who will be those things,
But my treacherous heart whispers
“It should be you.”
And it kills me,
To want a mother,
But not my mother,
To not miss you,
To appreciate the ways my life
Is better after you died.
Saying that “ugly truths
Are no less true for being ugly,”
Doesn’t make me feel less a monster.
But, even more than this,
It makes me angry
That you refused to be my mum
When you had the chance.
It makes me angry
That my inheritance is
Burned bridges and unfinished business.
It is beyond my grasp
Why you did this to us,
And even eighteen months with the puzzle
Hasn’t made your words and deeds any clearer,
So all I have left to hold is
Your absence, past and present.
~

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

Poem: Heartbeats

I fear and you touch me,
And somehow I know that everything
Will be alright

I cry and you hold me,
And just when I think you can’t get closer,
You do.

I hurt and you ask me to dance;
My heart is heavy and aching, but
You make me smile.

I unclothe my scars and you cry—
Not for their ugliness, but for the
Pain that painted them

I touch your breast and I realize that
The heart beating beneath it
Is my own
~

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

Poem: Glamorous

Rotten teeth and yellowed skin,
The shivers and the shakes
The secrecy and hiding,
Feeling not-quite-pain;

Long sleeves and extra layers,
The face-numbing fear
Trying to hide all the marks,
And the more-than-I-can-bear;

The constant “Am I good enough?”
The terror of being unloved,
The horror of hating yourself . . .
There’s nothing glamorous in self-destruct.
~

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

Poem: Trap

You reached out your hand
And you bid me to come
But there’s malice in your grip,
And poison on your tongue

You played a dreadful game,
Tying me with puppet strings
For in your fear you always knew
That one day I’d grow wings

I frustrated you, though you tried
To cut to the core of me
But I saw through your lies,
Hiding until I was free
~

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.