Icefields:

I’ve died a thousand times, but can’t seem to shake myself loose.

Recent Posts

Roaches rustle up Legs, screams catch in a black box; Septic words sting, black mold builds strength over time, A monster, as you call it.

venomous brain cells manic marrow memory-rich barnacles fretful fingernails fatty judgment

As if Pan’s shadow, sighs peel from tongues, contracting the afterparty to other galaxies, stars gust by torrid breath.