comfort in the nothingness | SoCs prose

Happy Saturday, everyone! This stream of consciousness piece is written for Linda G. Hill’s SOC Saturdays with the prompt as “coffee, tea, or me.” Enjoy! ~ you aren’t you. you’re everything everyone thinks you are. you aren’t your own skin, you can’t feel your bones. the words in your brain do not exist. am I coffee,…

nails in the brain | SoCs poem

Good morning, everyone! This stream of consciousness poem is written for Linda G. Hill’s SOC Saturdays with the prompt as “nails.” I hope you all enjoy! ~ dull metal stabs the soft tissue of my fleshy, futile organ, puncturing it over and over, until all the life, all the intelligence, all that power I thought…

may promises | prose

I promise… to cherish my friends and family to treat myself and my body with respect to be patient in all circumstances to remember all the parts of life that bring me joy to do all the things that make my day bright to listen to some of my favorite songs… and maybe write a…

Storms on an Easter Sunday

In the middle of writing stories for scholarships and virtual church services there is a light gray storm forming outside my window. It is not violent or on the surface all that threatening but when a force hides its ability to be menacing it keeps the people at large fearful and uneasy. It may be…

2020: The Weirdest Academic Year & Spring Break

We may not have to duck under our desks to dodge potential missiles, but I can bet that this school year will be one worthy for its own pages in a 2040 textbook and a three hour cautionary documentary. Currently I am in a state of limbo, shafted somewhere between a focused senior and an…

Stuttering And It’s Impact On Me

When I could not form thoughts, or even ask simple questions (like asking to go to the bathroom), I turned to paper. My failure to speak allowed me to listen, observe, and then inscribe. This is the main reason why I hold writing so close to my heart–more than drawing or singing or baking or running–since it will always be my most eloquent form of communication. The words I say aloud are never as honest or precise as the ones I type and scribble.