And I Write

 Chosen to to be a mother by birth but god knows there's plenty of ways to parent on this earth. Not even thirty, but on bad days I need...

[ breif but graphic descriptions of miscarriage, reader discretion advised ] There is a fading heartbeat.  It is dying.  You cannot end its ...

If I die at Pride, my name is Andi.  Do not call me Andrea, I hate the name; but to change it is danger and shame. If I die at Pride, my pr...

 I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired and sick and tired. Tired of the weight unseen that drags me down and down and down as my mi...

I'm needy, I'm needy, I'm needy... It's not needy if I need it. It's not needy if I need it. I'm weak if I'm ...

Some deeply personal rambling poetry for an early Halloween... because the scariest thing to be is honest. "Pain in the Neck" My...

Good news, good news! The number of siblings I have in my life has gone up to three! There's my sister, and I've written and read...

It feels wrong to call this tale mine, visceral, angry, sad. Worse, it is drawn from the experiences too many have had. You are a cell, you ...

If you must make me go to war over my morals, be ready, be ready, for I will unleash the wrath of all my inner quarrels. Be ready, be ready...

Behold the broken parts in the mutiny of me against me, anxiety and self loathing creeping in to slide foul and hateful hands down my shakin...

It's the time again, war. A time of pestilence, a looming famine, so much death and, still coming, more. Then was the time of h...

Welcome all to my  anxiety, the tightening in your chest. Must I welcome you who mocked me? Must I? Now that you have come now to suffer...

These feelings shouldn't hurt, I should be on a first name basis with them like lovers. The familiarity of being ignored and replaced, t...

I lean in too hard. It's a problem I've had from a young age, from the moments where I was first ostracized as a child. The who an...

People are not inherently terrible, we are a social species. We are however, prone one or both of two  terrible forces, and those are fear a...

"I hate myself, I hate myself. Not enough, no good, no point in trying to be understood." That, friends, is the mantra of my br...

Written for my brother at heart Charlie, as a birthday gift for his 21st.  "Brother 21" I've been blessed in this li...

I was not born to have a brother in blood. My brother in blood was unborn, unbreathing, lost to the crusade of time and fate. No, I was not ...

I wish I had the courage, the words; no, the nerve. If only to make a move in this bewildering game before me, to do more in my life than o...

A writer is a storyteller, a historian, a writer is anything really. A writer is a strange thing to be. The fact is old as language itself, ...