One of my first magical customer experiences when I was working at Waffle House was back in 2013. I was 22 years old, freshly college educated and constantly stressed, therefore constantly ticking. I believe it was solely an EEEE vocal tic I called a bark, but it was much more frequent. And yes, I wasContinue reading “It found its way”
Tag Archives: metaphor
What he loves
He loves my faceThe shape of Cupid’s bow,The curve of hazel,Spotted scars sparse,Extol my artistry, he does. He loves my curves,My thick mass,The pulse beneath bustMy weight, my baseThe sway of shark bite dress. He loves my languageaberration of normal pillow talk,Nibbles on his skin, sure,Quick heavy breaths and sniffing,Silly, immature play. He loves myContinue reading “What he loves”
My Heart
My heart is but a fishing bobber:Pallid and crimson, split in color.When casted from pole, to sea, or lakeor pond, perhaps. Floating uneasy atop the drift, To billow in ripple; bobbing over forgotten wakes. To reel it in would be a lost causeBecause one would save a thing if it were drowningBut for what? For what?To saveContinue reading “My Heart”
The Human Healer’s Stories 