A collection of poems, short stories, and narratives reeling from heartbreak, on the edge of genius, and somewhere in between.


I watched it unravel and fall

Past the months of loose rocks and sharp objects

Into the waves of deep conversations and sarcasm.

Three letters that pushed it over the edge.

Shorthand for see you but I know you won’t.

You won’t even try.

I thought it would get caught on some apologies

And Midwestern charm

But it kept tumbling down.

When it hit the bottom there was no sound.

No waves that jumped or ground that cracked.

I watched it look up at me as I turned to you.

You were already gone when you told me


72 miles


I would speed those miles to be near you

get pulled over

            and say “honestly I don’t know why

            he makes me feel comfortable and my


  nerves listen to me the more I see



but he makes me question myself with his slow replies and shy emotions

Yet it’s his skin that I think of when I hold mine”.


I would say, “it’s not supposed to work out.

            What we are doing."

                        And it probably won’t for much longer.

But until then I replay his motions

and keep driving those 72 miles.