My closet

This is my messy closet. It has thorns carefully stored. Handshakes with ghosts. Names, fuzzy in my mind. This 6 by 6 is a diary. Cluttered corners alive with gossip. Cracked heels reeking of dance, drinks, drama. It hides the dress worn that night. Plastic jewels, marked with memories of untied hair. Tiny rusty drawers, opening to dreams of curiosity, of hidden play. The key lies within, why search in space?


When the last button fell, no one heard the shirt tear, no one saw the dust ruffle. It was as quiet as a swallowed voice.

Me and You

My heart moves so fast that I need the stillness of the ocean to dance with each beat. My passion burns from a well that meets its maker in another as strong.