Allow Me To Be Honest: I Have Lived A Grey Life

i speak, “i have lived a grey life”

i am not saying my life has been less colorful

because, my life has been everything but colorless

a contradiction?

a paradox?



i have lived a grey life

i have loved…

i mean love


an inmate

people who have walked away from me

wronged me

i have loved

and i certainly have lost

i have seen suicide

and concerts

i have had delicacies

and packaged ramen

i have been innocent…

and found guilty

yeah, i’ve worn orange

i have made devastating decisions

but risen with my black wings spread

screaming, “i am here. i am her”

i am almost like an alanis morissette song

only not perfectly written

life, for me

has not been black and white

life, for me

has been grey

sometimes so grey

i do not stand on one side of the room in a clump

i hope i never

i have lived a grey life

and i will continue to live a grey life




Allow Me To Be Honest: I Have Lived A Grey Life


sweet girl

your green skin and fresh eyes are intriguing

your body, breathtaking

your voice, hypnotizing

you ask the universe to send you love

a love your father never gave you

you pray to be taken swiftly with the wind,

but, you will never feel the warmth of loyalty in the arms of a blessed union

you will never feel the love you desire by taking away from another




she was the light in my dimly lit life

the compass I used to find parts of myself

parts of myself I never knew existed

she was my party

she was the party

she had a smile that lit up the universe

I know, because

nothing shines as bright anymore

she had a laugh like a New York snowflake

a gypsy soul

and candy spirit

she was fearless in her dreams

and unapologetic in her waking life

as much as she loved them

The Cure couldn’t cure her restlessness,

but they sang her to sleep

my God, she was beautiful

she was the beginning of fall

she was pretty boots and scarves and hats

and vodka

she was beyond her years,

but she will remain forever young

her colorful tattoos

her perfect body

nothing but ashes now

she is a folder of memories that I keep


she is, even now

my favorite treasure

the prettiest girl in the entire world,

and my best friend

she is Grace

My Amazing Grace











Livi, Love Bugs & The Prelude

a song comes on the radio

sending me back to the day we sat in your Prelude

high on freedom

—among other things—

listening to the Shins,

locked inside our youth

remember the swarm of love bugs?

we thought they were taking over the world

it’s silly now

not the love bugs, no, but…

to know we believed that day would never end

and we wouldn’t be sixteen forever

not knowing how much we would change over the next ten years

how far we would drift from each other

and that beautiful day

we were the best of friends

we were fearless

above all…



so in love with music


dirt roads

and hot, dry gin

we would ‘porch sit’ for hours

wake up early to get drunk after partying all night

stare through every sun roof

talk about the trees whispering

I didn’t realize I would hold on to those moments

—that moment in your car—

with such a firm grip

that it would smack me in the face when I started to cook

or clean

or feel bored

I miss you, Livi

my friend

I miss being sixteen

I miss those lazy days and laughs

I’ll always remember sitting in your Prelude that sunny day

young and naive

knowing little of responsibility

and how time is a thief that can never be caught


Livi, Love Bugs & The Prelude

Would You Like Me: A Poem About My Father Who Died Too Early To Know The Real Me

in a way —

we would be meeting for the first time,


you’ve never met this woman

you don’t know my love of Lana Del Rey and whiskey

and —

I don’t recall a time you asked me what I dreamed of doing

with this heart God gave me

you don’t know I love to read

I get sad often

I am self conscious, but… I am self-aware

I would meet you over food and a martini

perhaps a shot…

maybe 5

God knows I’d need em

you don’t see me now

living as a twenty-five-year-old

married woman who is living

and learning



if I could,

I would tell you that I help where I can,

but my efforts fall short with my confidence

I am selfish


and only kinda funny

I would tell you I crave being the weird girl,

because only then would I be special

I often times wonder how you would respond to the person I am—

respond to the soul my skin drapes

I’ve pondered that question many times over the past five years

would you even like me?

it’s too late to know the answer now

twenty years young and you left—

not on purpose

but, at a time where I began a metamorphosis—

to become a child God would protect,

and a daughter you’d be proud of


*There are many versions of this poem, including one I performed at Night of Expression, but this is the FINAL one. ❤







Would You Like Me: A Poem About My Father Who Died Too Early To Know The Real Me


piercing the atmosphere

raining love and warmth

caressing fields, rivers, strands of hair

the mother of all life

touching so softly,

yet so forcefully

giving life, light, and energy

how you shower us with grace

and beauty

as you seep through blinds

and the cracks of the day

showing us all how to start again

wake up and be powerful

each day a new beginning

to love all life’s gifts

to kill darkness,

but not the night