Love Letter.

In 9th grade, I wrote a love letter to a boy. I imagine it was entirely dramatic—depicting my teenage longing and the color of his eyes with gag-inducing metaphors—but genuinely heartfelt, and honest nonetheless. And while I tried my hardest to emulate the letter-writing greats, like Oscar Wilde and John Keats, my letter read like a scene from Degrassi with the raw emotion of a Dashboard Confessional hit.

Continue reading Love Letter.

Just Keep Swimming.

If you’ve ever felt an ounce of sadness, or stress, or fear, write about it. Tear the cap off a pen, and spill some ink knowing with each motion of your hand, you’re one step closer to mending your wounds. Words are my most favorite tools. Strung correctly, their punch is unbelievably powerful. They bite, cut, soothe, heal. They are the Neosporin for my boo-boos.

Continue reading Just Keep Swimming.