top of page

Creative storyteller with passion for art & connection. Portland, Oregon.


Hiding in shadows between words left unsaid

in the ruins of the road not taken,

searching for any sign that you’re worth reaching for.


But there are no signs to guide,

no certainty before destruction.

I’m drowning on deserted dry land,

my hand outstretched towards nothing.

Recent Posts

See All

moths to a flame.

they say for women we forget some of our deepest pain and that must be true because it feels like i have amnesia when it comes to you never remembering the recurring heartbreak until it's impending, d

let me nestle in the space under your collarbones

i'd crawl underneath your skin, nestle in the space underneath your collarbone or snugly between your ribs watching your heart beat hoping to understand you better i'd see the world through your eyes

love at 20.

closer pull me in closer crush me with the weight of your expectations my expectations the roles we're supposed to play but forget that now pull me in fall faster deeper let me feel the fullness of yo


bottom of page