She really hated the Holidays. While she enjoyed spending time with her family, she detested the expectations: cooking, shopping, and decorating. “Let’s go out of town to your mother’s for Christmas,” Tanya suggested to her husband, figuring this would alleviate all the things she hated. “Yes, that’s a great idea. I’ll text mom and see if she’s on board.” “Let me know what she says.” “Mom is good with us visiting for Chri...

“Not guilty, Your Honor.” “Tell the court what happened.” “Your Honor, I needed a gift for my wife. We married on New Year’s Eve last year; today’s our anniversary. The store was closing, and the clerk didn't want to accept my payment. I left my credit card number on the counter, so technically I did not steal the necklace. Now, I just want to hurry home to my wife.” “The court finds you guilty!” “Aw.” “Fortunately, you’l...

She said...Wordsgrouped together,amounting towritten promisesscribedin black and white...White spacesin between thoughtsThat iswhat we’ve exchanged for awhile now.Now, we swapwords on screenswith no expression,sans inflection,but with a mutualunderstanding, a union groundedin respect, in love, with anundeniablechemistry.And thenyou offer your voice. You desire touse your voice to carryto deliverto transportthe promiseyour...

See-- Here’s what you don’t know. Every word or phrase, essay or poem, story or musing that I writeis a stab with adouble-edged sword to defeatan indelible recording of the recurring commandI received while growing up. The message was a simple‘shut-up’. They say I’m quiet, and that I don’t havemuch to say. Well, let me tell you about theDiary of a Potential Chatterbox:a Smothered Extravert. Anytime a ‘How are you today?’...

Three cups refined sugar fresh, sweet, and white,Three sticks of butter creamed in a fusion.Three eggs to blend, bind, and whip the delight.Now, add flavor to avoid exclusion. Add flour; stir slow for moistness to thrive. Pour in three-fourths cup of 7-Up, cold.Preheat oven to three seventy-five.Grease and flour a Bundt pan: a cake mold. Pour the fluffed mixture into the Bundt pan.Bake for an hour and fifteen minutes.Let...

A mirror-glimpseof her physicality reveals taut skin,a narrow waist,high breasts,a globe-shaped arse,and an ivory smile. They are leashed illusions led by aninflamed egopuffed by the flesh she willundoubtedly offer to you on a platinum platter. With the exception of her messy hair, thick thighs,a single red pimple,or one of its blemishing remnants,she finds no wrongin the mirror’s returnof her reflection. And indeed,hersu...

Have you ever written a story or a poem and been unhappy with the finished product? Addicted to the healing properties of catharsis, you attempt to reword, rework, and rewrite to make yourself ‘feel’ better about the piece. Upon your review, every word, line, paragraph, and stanza is free from grammatical or mechanical error. However, you can’t seem to part with what you’ve completed. After the internal struggle, you deci...

It would be nothing less than a lie to deny that I am missing you. But my heart is all right. You are so far from me. Yet your very essence is ever present. Still, my heart is all right. Flashes of you consumethe empty spaces between my thoughts. Nevertheless, my heart is all right. I remember… Your spirit painted me daily with showers of warm illumination.Our yokes were equivalent. Your soul serenaded my mind daily witho...

The fall-in,the trap.I knewbetterthanthat. Your lyingdoublescheming,multiplicity of personalities... Fuck you,is notaterm ofendearmenthere… But a sentimentof the utterdisdain that I have for youat this very moment… You know, I really can do much better!

My friend, my love resides on my thighs. Living within the restricted dimensions ofthe height,the width, andthe depth of my screen there is you. Although confined,the friendship,the laughs,the sharing, and the emotions are as real as possible. At timesthe words,the sentiment, andthe passion on the page seem to escape their boundaries. However, there is no doubt thatour closeness,our relationship,our affection, andour mutu...

No. I can no longer and will no longer subjectmyself to the disrespectof being your consummate whore,your lover,your cover,your bitch who meets you on the other side of town. No, I can no longer and will no longer be downwith your abuses,your excuses, your fucking reasons why I am over hereand you are over there with her in the clear. No, I can no longer and will no longer prolongthe execution ofmy love,my feelings,my stu...

While scribbling words that flow from my heartas fast as my fingers can move,I stop, look back, and ask myself,“Will the reader feel my groove?” I wonder…Do simplistic phrases on the canvasengage more than two or three senses?Do the paragraphs, lines, and spaces creatively capture vital dimensions? I wonder …if I lay the rhythm of the scene first to set the pace of this account,will my selection of words that followkeep t...