An Appalachian Horror story. He keeps coming to my window. In the moonlight, with the faded wisteria hanging down over the warped windows, he taps on the glass. Lightly, at first. And then harder. Harder. Hard enough to rattle my teeth. I’m paralyzed in bed, I can’t even reach over and turn on the lamp.…

I am struggling to write so… here’s my playlist for this memoir that isn’t even written yet. Enjoy 💕 Playlist: Part 1: The Girl Lost in Dreaming-  “Fins” – Jimmy Buffett  “The Cover of Rolling Stone” – Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show“Dreams” – The Cranberries “This Kiss” – Faith Hill  “Only the Good Die…

I ran away. I was really good at that, actually; if you asked anyone who knew me, they’d agree. I wasn’t even sure what I was running from, or running to. I didn’t want to think about Kael, his face twisted in confusion, his eyes bleak with desperation. We’d just tasted our anniversary cake, and…

I feel like an empty husk.  Like if you rattled me in your warm hands,  you’d hear nothing. And I’ve tried these months  to fill myself —  with hope,  with music,  with the life I so long to feel in my womb — a second heartbeat in the galaxy of us. And yet nothing grows…

I was more than a girl in a song. He made me into “the girl who broke his heart.” Just a woman without a name, with no story beyond the one he gave to me in those few short paragraphs. He barely mentioned me. And I became a footnote. A song to stream. The girl…

I’ve been wondering about how my teenage self would view this life I’ve grown into and made with my own hands.  My teenage self was a mess. Dramatic and unstable. And I know you’re thinking, “oh, so she’s like you… now?” I get it. I get why you’d think that I hadn’t matured or changed…

I mythologize you, and I ache for the same. I made you into dragons, into lilac-eyed elves and sorcerers, into Hades, fauns and even eternal embers. I bleed out onto these pages  and swirl my fingers in the crimson paint,  tracing stars with names that still make my chest ache, even now.  I’m the writer…

I am a faerie woman with sunflowers on her brow, made with patient fingers so that I might have the crown I deserve, though I ask not for worship, only…no. I mustn’t say. Aphrodite running her hands through her hair, laughter like sparks and fireflies in the air. When she twirls beside me, I feel…

Love: You Were Just A Boy I woke up this morning, coming back from a dream, with your name on my tongue, with your face behind my eyelids- magnified smile.  Did any of that really happen?  It feels like a dream, like another life, another girl.  Where did that go? It isn’t about you, It’s…

I am my father’s daughter. It’s in the shape of my face and the way my eyes crinkle up when I laugh. My height and the way I run like an ostrich, that’s all my daddy. It’s the way I spin whimsical stories,  and in the way I settle down with a creak of my…

Another excerpt from my memoir… Morgana and Warren accompanied me to the park where I was going to meet up with Kael for the fireworks. After texting a bit, we’d decided that this would be kind of a fun double date. I was wearing daisy dukes, a crop top, and sandals; my hair was in…

Here’s an excerpt from the memoir I’m working on… enjoy! What do you do when a man you’ve once hooked up with texts you: “I saw a movie with fairies in it and I thought of you ;)”?  If you’re me, the self proclaimed Queen of all things Faerie, you melt (even if he’d spelled…

There’s a moment in everyone’s story where they think: what the fuck am I doing? This is hurting me. Maybe even, this is fucking killing me. For me, this happened a few times. And each time, instead of stepping away from the flames, I crept a little closer. I wanted to see how near I…

“Tell me the story again,” I demanded, pulling my cabbage-rose duvet up to my chin and snuggling deeper into the mattress. My mother, half-asleep herself, barely stifled a yawn. “The one about the faerie queens, Alexandria and Elizabethan?” I wrinkled my nose. “No, the one about you and daddy.” My mother sighed, tucking her blonde…

I’ve been obsessively working on my memoir or my new novel, The Betwixt. So if you’re into early 2000s nostalgia, emo bands, and reincarnation, you might like this. Cheers 🥂 The bar was nothing special, just a hole in the wall dive bar. The neon blue sign buzzed and flickered, lighting up the faces of…

Being sixteen, I thought, was like an artificial Christmas tree: all glitter and no substance, despite the twinkling lights and the promising shine of tinsel. Get a new haircut, start wearing makeup and cute clothing and, what, suddenly I was worthy of attention? I twirled in my short skirts and laughed at the wide eyes…

I was talking to a friend this week about our inner darkness. About how some people don’t acknowledge that piece of themselves, about how they want to point the finger of blame and justice at the ones who speak in wine-soaked epitaphs and mournful letters. And those people? The finger pointing ones? Those aren’t my…

What do you see when you look in the mirror? Do you see past, present, future? Do you see a portal to the other realm? Do you see a magical tool? Do you see, merely, your own reflection?  Do you know what I see? There’s… a lot there. I have to look past the mess……

I can feel the steam rising off of the cobbled streets, and I find myself dodging puddles of who knows what. The pastel buildings with their iron galleries and dripping tropical flowers seem to shiver as I run my fingers across their bousillage and stucco exteriors. And the air is heavy, almost alive: thick with…