Writers are always alone, even in a room bursting with noises of the familiar.

She wondered If I had woken up, would I have smelled his sadness, his desperation, and his detachment? His death, her breath. He told her once, she remembers, these two words have no other rhyme...

Women have rooms inside of us men cannot fathom. It’s where we store the depths of the hurt we’ve been dealt.Where we store the deep love we never want to lose.

My world, created by glass and flame in the birth of your heat, implodes inside the shadowed walls of my heart. I swallowed the shards you gave me, your eyes on mine. Nothing is easy....

Like a butterfly in glass, I want to fly away to you but the invisible walls contain me. It’s not time. Hard to accept when I feel your words calling to me. Your soul beckoning...

This is a book about fracture. About the experiences that make up a life. About the pieces of me. Delving into naked emotion is a terrifying proposition. Digging into our souls to look for answers...

I hear the beating of the waves you carry in your chest That simple and that profound This love that binds us Folded in pieces inside love’s soul.

I gave my heart to a man who loved me, who wanted to be with me. Who ultimately was afraid of all I offered.I didn’t understand why he sabotaged our future at the time –...

Silence is one of worst, most vocal enemies, yet people go through many bouts of depression not sharing what is happening. People don’t understand that, but as someone who suffers from it, I can tell...

In a surreal gift from the universe, time both stands still and flies past you in that singular moment when you find out someone you once loved is gone.