What is normal? It’s a myth created by societies to tell us how we can and cannot be. Our differences make us what we can call ourselves. Society has convinced so many of us that we aren’t normal, aren’t worthy of love, aren’t beautiful. The weeds amongst wildflowers are often passed by, being seen as easy, harmful, ugly. They are overshadowed by the colors of the wildflowers they flourish with. W...

When I look in the mirror I don’t like what I see. The affirmation filled sticky notes littered around the frame do nothing to quiet the noise. I look in the mirror and I see a woman trying to overcome the dread she feels when thinking about what comes next. She’s struggling to get through the weeks and each day of mindless repition drags her closer to the deep end. I look in the mirror and I see ...

“When can I see you again?” he asked.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she sighed. The sheets ruffled as he crawled closer to her.

“What do you mean?” he felt her heart drop to her stomach. He reached out, gently caressing her bare shoulder but she shuddered away, body tense. She stood, quickly patting the ground for her clothes.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she hissed. She swallowed the rock in her th...

My favorite sound is when someone smiles and laughs. The gentle pull of their lips to morph from a grin to a smile invites a soft crackle of the saliva pulling away from any cracks or crevices or ridges. Like the feeling of your fingers grazing lush moss in the forest; soft, firm, and satisfying all at once. The inhale in preparation is akin to sticking your feet in the cool waves, lapping up your...

No one can ever prepare you for the wave of emotions that come from saying goodbye. They wipe you out and drag you along the rough grains of sand back into the deepest ends. There is a bittersweet finality that comes with the word. It doesn’t get easier no matter how often you say it. It doesn’t matter if its a loved one, your favorite restaurant, or the life you had before, the finality will leav...

“Oh, shit,” Charlie muttered.

“Oh, shit,” Alison mimicked.

“Fuck this,” Penelope threw her hands up. The trio started stepping backwards cautiously, unable to tear their eyes away from the scene in front of them. Blood splattered and carcasses lay strewn across the floor, one disfigured being standing over it all, gobbling down its next meal. Glass crunched underfoot and the group stopped, eyes wi...