A force of nature

There are too many signs:

A split of earth

Running in a jagged shriek

Like a fresh wound.

The magma that consumes


That swallows every smile

Making new chaos

With the most gorgeous

Of red grins.


I am watching the news

I am hiding my head in the sand

I am inhaling all of the air I have left

Hoping I can still breathe tomorrow.


I want to believe

In cycles. In transformation.

In pain before breakthrough

In suffering before enlightenment

But the whole world aches

And together we cover ourselves

In the ash that surrounds us

Attempting to rebuild with rubble

As we wait for the next aftershock

To be strong enough

To wake us up

Or end us all.

Aurora Wakes Up

I did not dream of a prince.

When I lay there

all he saw was his right

to wake me.

As if his kiss was the only thing

that could save the world.

But I am the one who dreams.

I am the one who is making this reality.

Don’t wake me

or all will perish.

I will become nothing more than your conquest.

Nothing more than a complacent


A woman to carry

over your threshold.

Did you ever ask me what I was dreaming about?

That before your eyes woke me from my slumber

I was the Queen of my own kingdom?

So powerful

fairies had to put a hit out on me

and spinning wheels were burned

as effigies.

Reduced to a verb and an adjective

and a passive player in my own story.

Call me Aurora, motherfucker!

I am the light!

I am the morning.

I am the one who wakes you up.

Don’t rouse me with tongues and the promise

of a happily every after

Give me a reason

to open my eyes.

When you crave cigarettes and no one realizes you’re battling the urge to kill yourself:

This isn’t your bottom.

This isn’t the start of it.

And only you get to decide

if you swim for the surface.

I will tell you to watch for the signs:

When the coffee becomes routine.

When the TV is always on.

When distraction

is mandatory.

Sitting with it

is the only way to clean the wound

that never heals

Take walks in wild places

climb a mountain

get perspective.

Get lost.

Pray to colorful gods.

Sing the songs you loved as a child.

Make someone else hold you.

Swallow herbs

Be grateful.

You may not reach the surface

but don’t stop swimming.

You might only be a moment

from the breath that will save you.


Your Life Is A Ritual

Your mind is an empty field.

A bowl of rice.

A void.

Endless space and moment in slow motion.

Slow Down

Slow Down

Do not overcomplicate what is simple.

Our brains are common

we are animals

who only feel

and bleed.

Naked is not vulnerable.

Naked is all we ever were.

And when we accept this fact

we find our bodies carry more

than our own weight.


Everything is symbolism.

How much can you take?

Hours? Days? Months

of staying open?

When you plug yourself into your audience

you disappear

Only what you represent


When it’s over

you bury the bones

of all of your missing pieces.

Holy flesh

Perfect impermanence

Slow Down

Until every moment

is a millennia.

Every encounter

a soul mate


And every drop of blood

an ocean.

I go straight from the colposcopy appointment

To the supermarket

And flirt

With the most attractive clerk I see

I realize

Life is short

That until the phone call comes

I can pretend

The weight of it all

Does not suffocate

Every step

That the cramping in my cervix

Is nothing

But an afterthought

Anchor, sinking
You know how deep the water goes

And tether yourself to the ship that owns you

Even when the boat is also sinking
You bail the water the best you can but cannot beat time

Sooner or later everything finds its way

To rock bottom
People like me were meant for this

You should have been born a buoy

You have a habit of lightness

Others can’t help but swim towards
I know this because I am

A bottom feeder

I’ve rarely seen the surface

Of the sea
Hold your breath

See how long it takes you to feel

Your weight sink

Into the sand beneath your feet
Then try, dear god try

To bounce back
You were one of the best friends

I never had
It was easy to drown us both

But harder for me to come

Up for air
You were always a better swimmer
Next time I’ll grow gills

Next time I’ll bring lifeguards
Next time I won’t feel salty

When you let go.