maybe you don’t call it depression maybe you don’t know its symptoms— maybe you blame the devil. it must be the devil, or the boy that left. … Continue reading I Tried Calling it Depression.
There’s a sound I will always remember. The sound of a body bag and a mortuary crane. Oh, how the yellow zips clipped and crackled my chest, Closing off things … Continue reading Some day, you will meet your home–
The garden of Eden Was the first funeral We brought flowers to. We bring flowers to funerals Not as a gesture of love, Or sympathy But to feed … Continue reading Lilies, Roses and Tulips