The creative process feels as if one is being led rather than leading. For so long I have believed this process to be so mystical that it had to be mental. And for that reason — I resisted the calling

i do not wish for my name to be placed under the list of surviving relatives in my mother’s obituary i am not her daughter i am the person she chose not to become so when we look at each other from across

Question: So, what’s your type? Answer: I like crazy womxn psychopaths that like to play mind games as if it’s monopoly “it’s not personal It’s business.” i love a woman who likes to fight for the story

Personal Essay “a haunting of self” Q: What is it like to truly be yourself? A: It’s as if one part died so the other part could live. to be born again; implies something bloody and new It’s been one year

Original Poem Original Art Melt. MELT blue popsicle dripping red high heels racing orange peels pulling back black mascara running white marigolds blooming pink backpacks buckling yellow station wagons

when THEY say — “wake-up. this is not a dream. YOU are not a human being.” when THEY ask YOU — (if you believe...) When THEY tell YOU — “when will YOU realise WE are but machines.” will you be insane like

Original Poem MOTHERING EYES that long gaze penetrating straight into our souls fantasies that divide my knees in two a touch that seemed nice enough my fingers found friends while hanging around her hands

Erasing the stain purity culture left behind is helping mental health. Choosing to be human and love the functions of our body — is natural medicine. I hope my sex poetry helps those the church hurt too.

Original Poem Crowd Pleaser Suddenly, she appeared before me. a heart welling an internal harth heat. a red balloon exploding on eye contact. love and lust begin with the same letter. the silhouette of

Original Poem GOLD RUSH mammillary tissue worth its weight in gold. a kodak, with a face attached. heart throbs and palpitations in all the right places. nothing sang quiet like their lips. whispers ran

To the person who called rough love, tough love. As if this delicate four lettered word Was leathery jerky; dry. Confusing a fuck For something else Entirely. Two hands, layered; overtop that thyroid —

Dear Diary, I’ve been reading this book — or, rather just am beginning too. There is a lot of sorrow that comes with pulling a parent off the pedestal. This longing, stabbing loss occurs when an adult

I went viral on tiktok this past weekend. I actually enjoy making one minute videos for things I am attempting to deconstruct. I have one for my own personal rants — like on here, but much shorter. No

Coming out of religion has been tragic, and not for the faint of heart. Purity culture wrapped its tentacles around me, placed them up inside of me; tied a noose around my neck — and hung me. This feline

I tell my friends, “hive is just like Reddit except karma is real.” The evolution of paper money to digital transactions to block chain technology is coming. Bitcoin ATMs are being installed at the local

He died and not for anyone’s sins. Public service announcement: ((Belief in any organized religion perverts ones internal identity. When one represses the dark qualities aka sex and aggression, it festers

I’ve been free writing for a little over three years now. And I talked a lot about chiropractic college as I began my journey into what I believed would end in me calling myself a doctor one day. That

The letter is what I free-wrote while/after completing this art project I have called, “the black lung.” This is in dedication to everyone who ever told me, “you know that will kill you” when they saw

This is an original abstract made with oil pastels. (I am changing it up a bit right now but this is the background of what is to come! Stay tuned.) My rambl3 po3try answers the question: “That’s what

These are some of my rambling on what it’s like to complete an art piece that the artist is proud of. Thank you so much for reading this series on the progression of this project — it is now completed!