I do not write about nice people. I am not nice people.
Fiction is a piece of truth that turns lies to meaning.
Babies change things, open doors you thought were shut, close others. Make you into something you never been.
Teenagers are free verse walking around on two legs.
Twenty years after we had left so fierce and proud, we were all right back where we had started, yoked to each other and the same old drama.
Piece by piece, my mother is being stolen from me.