How to respond to a very forward proposal…

How do I even start to be a slut?

I was raised on little light

A poem for my moth

This one’s for you.

Yup, the lack of choice is a feature.

Boundaries are investments in our relationships.

One of many sad backstories from Shadowplay.

A sonnet about the people we cast to play our demons.

A love poem for an insect.

A poem about being bad at love.

Recovery isn’t a straight line.

It’s more than just quarantine.

What is essential is invisible to the eye.

A family’s fatal flaw

I’m unhealthy but it’s not like I’m a terrible person. Do I have to spend the rest of my life alone?