Change.

Post-college graduation, I was lucky enough to snag a full-time job only two months after crossing the stage. Which, given the job market, was a miracle. And while I was happy to…

Comfortable.

I pulled my favorite scarf—a black and brown pashmina—from its hook, and draped it on my crown. With the tips of my fingers, I nervously swirled the soft fabric around my…

Maktub.

Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist fell into my queue six weeks ago by the hand of my brother, Logan, and quickly rose to the top of my list of favorites. The 208-page…

Poney.

At 14, having barely breached teenagehood, I’d never been in love. Then a Chocolate Lab stole my heart.

On Three.

I dragged myself to my second-floor window, and clung to the sill with white knuckles—my lungs laboring against the thick, hot air. Tears poured from my ducts like unhinged floodgates, and choking back sobs, I…

Spitting Image.

My mother has a habit of snapping pics of various objects with her smart phone, sending them to FedEx, and blowing them up to fit frames too large for the…

Talking Points.

Read the first three bars of Eminem’s “Lose Yourself,” and you’ve essentially just described the precursor to nearly every difficult, uncomfortable conversation you’ll ever have; sweaty palms, weak knees, heavy arms, nerves,…

The Cosmos.

A handmade lunar calendar hangs plainly in my kitchen. It’s composed of black ink pressed deep into thick cotton paper. Each month spirals into itself like a snail’s shell, displaying daily…

You Are Here.

I cannot see my toes—my child is hiding them. She’s nestled sweetly in my womb, tucked away from the outside, patiently awaiting her exit. I know it’s a girl—I can feel her….

Inked: Part II.

Six weeks ago, I was inked. After dizzying myself with concept-crafting, note-taking, researching artists, perusing portfolios, and coming to terms with having my body permanently marked, I offered myself as a…