I’d like to think the answer is no — I love writing. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t scribbling down words in one way or another — napkins, scraps of notebook paper, paper grocery bags, and then the Notes app in my phone. I used writing (and reading) as an escape, creating and disappearing into worlds that…

You heat me up — Come a little closer, love Lend me some of your heat You’re a gift from above The best friend a girl could meet I feel you seeping in my bones And I begin to thaw You make me feel less alone The day feels much less raw There’s no rhyme…

They own a big piece of my heart — Irish Twins is a term that is used when two children who aren’t twins were born within a year of each other. It was originally used as a slur because Irish immigrants often had children very close together, and many people disapproved. But the term fascinates me. …

My true north guides me — Have you ever felt like you were walking in circles? Like you were taking all the right steps and doing all the right things and functioning “well” for all intents and purposes, but inside, you had no idea what you were doing? Or even who you are. There have been…

How is that possible? — I have a very tender heart. I’ve always felt things very deeply, to the point that I kinda want to be able to shut it off. And by “it,” I mean me. If only there could be an off switch for things like being sensitive, feeling too deeply, and worrying…

Darkness, why won’t you leave? — So, there are a lot of things I dread (anxiety be that way — if you know, you know), but I have to admit that this time of year seems to have all of my pet peeves and fears and depression triggers piling up like a group of kindergartners converging…

A fictional story — She shuddered, goosebumps peppering her skin, an involuntary reaction that she still hadn’t managed to conquer. She knew what she was looking at, what he was clutching in his hand. And it meant nothing good could come of this night. She had wished it would stick this time. Wished he’d…

And she knows it — She wasn’t a rose or a lily or anything striking or beautiful. She wasn’t something to be loved carefully, her elegance or poise inspiring the utmost admiration. She wasn’t anything anyone would want, or anything anyone would want to be. She was a dandelion. And she knew it. No one…

Whispers — The map of her soul lies on her skin Crisscrossed and tucked, covered with a grin Plain to see, if you’re willing to stop and read But don’t bother, there really is no need White, faded, a past that never really rests Perfected words to bypass every test Duck your head, no…