alone for a bit
I settle into
a familiar sweater

guest listed
to a show of artists
i don’t know

fall break
time to catch up . . .
on sleep

homeless man
uses the same line
three days in a row

the temperature drops
the cool breeze
from you

cleaning our apartment
so many
socks under the couch

late night
talking for hours
you’re my caffeine

“you look just like her”
i was too young
to remember her face

gravesite
what do I do
now?

faded sheet music
passed from mother
to daughter

   a            heart
on      my     sticky
  note           it's
      the   little
         things

hood up
on the subway
please stop talking

sixth grade
a foot taller than
all the boys

august sunset
working up the courage
to hold her hand

mountains
evening hike
takes us to the stars

somber Tuesday
I find candy in my pocket
and smile

empty road
in middle of nowhere
stars keep me company

kettle on the stove
only there
for decoration

drunken dancing
I strum with a smile
on my face

cold rain
hits the windshield
we fight in the car

weekend in Chicago
finding myself
in a place i’ve never been

wishing i could
go back
as the person i am now

midnight alone
the overwhelming feeling
i’m not enough

CANNON BALL!
a pile of fallen leaves
replacing the pool

mexican restaurant
portrait of frida kahlo
gives me a wink

keys in one hand
pepper spray in the other
“nice ass”

trusting my instinct
walking 12 city blocks
the wrong direction

you tore out the roots
i’d spent years growing
fallen tree in a storm

perfect snowflake
resting on a
new fallen leaf

tea kettle whistles
in harmony with
the howling wind

folding laundry
on a friday night
i'll do anything with
you

             the
            final
            pin
          sways
         but     it
        does  not
        fall   over
         no strike

he watches me
                  watch myself
through angled
                  mirrors

autumn fog
bracing myself
for family dinner

break up
he hides
the ring box

thanksgiving day
wearing new
stretchy pants

visiting grandma
sweeping fallen leaves
from her headstone

empty apartment—
everyone’s gone home
for fall break

sitting with someone new
everyone gets
the wrong idea

driving with
the heat on high
fingertips still ice cold

cold marble
I can still remember
his laughter

past bedtime
flipping to
the end

another touchdown
watching from the
sidelines

accidentally kicking
the man
stealing my leg room

right turn
accidentally stopping
for a green light

all-night diner
counting his change
Thanksgiving

lying
staring at the ceiling
for an answer

holiday menu
his trucker jacket
full of holes

breakup
racking my brain
for what I did wrong

stray cat
at my doorstep
lost like me

walking home alone
a shadow
not my own

nuzzling puppy
pawing at my feet
“Why won’t you pet me?”

a frozen nose
sniffling
by the bonfire

borrowed drum set
collects dust, but
“I’ll learn soon”

big brother
got himself a gal
now acting his age

grocery shopping
i put back the
nicer foods

avoiding the grocery store
I used to date
the bakery boy

cigarettes burn
we tell
each other secrets

apple pie
pumpkin bread
mom missed me

the back of my hand
familiar roads
I’ll always know

corn maze
let’s get lost
for a while longer

stubble
tickling my skin
neck kisses

a bowl of butternut squash soup
the warmth
next to the fireplace

a glass window
separating
my hand and the kitten's paw

another hole
in your favorite t-shirt
will you ever let go?

back to school babies
mom labels
every crayon

forbidden fruit
i hit "send"
against better judgment

leaving the test
thinking about
changing my major

porcelain face
we walk past
the open casket

scrabble
the thoughts in my mind
I can’t form into words

first snow
barista dives
to change Christmas radio

trying
to #lovemyself
I order a second coffee

missing home
I burn the eggs
just like mom

tip toes
I reach a little higher
for a kiss

a package
addressed to my teddy bear
thanks, mom

mirror squeaks
finger drags
in the shape of a heart

Christmas list:
universal human rights
and a Barbie

his lips
on my smile
we talk about nothing at all

SUPERGIRL!
bed sheet cape
construction paper crown

a soft lick
on the back of my hand
does this mean we’re best friends now?

the cat
at the top of the scratching post
Princess Kylee

pitch black
the ceiling fan’s song
lulls me to sleep

first time apart
we talk on the phone
you don’t see me blush

decorating the tree
my favorite ornament
broken

late evening nap—
dogs on the couch,
mom in the chair

double-dutch divas
skip the purple rope
in the pouring rain

“if she doesn’t say no,
then she deserved it,”
my uncle argues

Hurricane Michael
playing hopscotch
on abuela’s rooftop

warm snuggles
relieve my stress
good boy, max

waitress counts tips
$12.50 – $17.00
needed for baby formula

dad brews coffee
fills a cup
just for me

4 years old
cute little skinny jeans
grown up so fast

polished nails
on hairy fingers
I am who I am

chocolate skin
his fingers trace my lips
hershey kiss

car all packed
wait, I forgot to say goodbye
to the dogs

she spins and spins
barrettes swaying as she smiles
merry-go-round

nursing home
walker slides down the hall
dim lights

childhood friend
comes for tea
comfortable silence

soap and smoke
a smell
that brings me home

pumpkin patch
can we stop taking pictures yet?
I smile once more

grown man
the girl’s toothless smile—
he lets her win

mom's memory
going faster
than he is growing

Halloween
a new face
just for the night

little girls
sneaking in
a read before bed

evening corn field
one set of headlights
disrupts the peace

wet leaves
cling to my boots
I get another phone call

record player—
the song
we used to dance to

late night whispers
hoping the moon
stays forever

cleaning day
i throw away my old
baseball cards

ugly duckling
all the trees turned
except mine

shuffling feet
he tugs his cuffs once more
wedding bells

sunlight glistens
around the duck's
yellow bill

back in bed
somehow softer
than the last time

the oversized flannel
warms the cold miles
between them

fading sunset
I regret
what I never said

tiny shops
line the street
no one speaks English

yawning
the cat on the carpet
me at the desk

the first snow
has fallen
Mom, where's the sleds?

house creaks
I watch too much
Criminal Minds

the old wood floor
creaks . . .
as she sneaks in

walking alone
3am
cold in every way

4am
i roll over
there you are

back at home
little sister
not so little anymore

a night with friends
we forgot about
our phones

markings on a grave
a life
I never knew

dew on the bus window
she avoids glares
from the man across the aisle

learning Braille
by tracing goose bumps
your bare back

cold bitter wind
the flies camp out
round my desk lamp

   you’re beautiful
         . . . I wish I saw myself
the way dad does

spring duck family
the warmth of her gaze
and his

a lake of clouds
I swam in
              last night

the ER
her second home
22 more stitches

bustling airport        I pick you out of the crowd with ease

          grocery shopping
for one                         I come home
          to an empty house

fresh coffee
he smiles
i get the creamer

home alone
I jump at the sound of
my own breath

fall break
not even the neighbor cat
visits

first morning frost
balloon animal
shrivels in the corner

tea steams
as the gossip
pours out

wrapped in a blanket
the steel of the bleachers
freezes my butt

road trip back
this direction is
so much harder

empty room
with every light on
still      empty

midnight still
an agnostic prayer
into the pillow case

green glitter trails
after her
she flies unafraid

I'm bored I sit down
at the piano and play
I missed this

separación de la frontera
madre e hija
lágrimas de desesperación

snake skin
slithering back
into their lives

roadhouse rolls
melted cinnamon butter
oh my . . . LORD

prison guard frown
toddler’s hugged daddy
too long

soft indie music
tea gently brews
as she waits

like the geese
i fly south
leaving it all behind

leftover turkey
mom's love
on my way out

under 21
my roommates buy me
capri sun

one lonesome weed prevails         gardening day

alone on fall break
not at all sad
that i didn’t go home